No Laughing Matter
by A-is-for-Amy
Summary: Fred and George have opened their shop in Diagon Alley. Now their real adventure begins as they find love, spy, battle death eaters and find out what Percy is up to. (Set during Harry & co.'s sixth year)
1. Default Chapter

**No Laughing Matter is a completed fic that I wrote last year, so it shouldn't take long for me to upload it to this site. I hope that you will stick with me through the first few chapters, during which the main characters will be introduced and then the real drama will unfold. Starts out relatively fluffy and sweet, and then turns darker around Chapter six or so. Please, if you're reading, drop me a quick review, even if it's just to say "I'm reading this." Thanks, and I hope you enjoy it!**

**Chapter 1**  
  
"Are you sure you don't want me to leave Lee here with you?" George looked at his twin, identical to the last freckle, searching for signs of unease or reluctance. Lee Jordan was in the Leaky Cauldron, giving the brothers some privacy to say their good-byes. After all, they had never been parted for a whole two weeks before.  
  
"Nah," Fred grinned, not wanting to voice his concerns about how far away America was. "Now that term has started at Hogwarts, our biggest business is going to be by owl order. The shop should be pretty quiet while you're in America. Most of the kids stocked up on stuff here before going to school. Besides, Lee is really looking forward to seeing his grandmother again."  
  
"Yeah, he'd skin me alive if I told him that he couldn't go at this point. His grandmother would think it was strange for me to show up to stay without him, too. I've got to say, I wish we were taking broomsticks; long distance portkey travel always makes me queasy. A whole hour of spinning.... plus the fact that I haven't been on a broomstick for ages."  
  
"It'll be fine. You'll get lots of great information at those American schools to bring back, and we'll get started making some great new products – not to mention getting a whole new clientele out of it!"  
  
"There is that. Well I'd better get going. Take care, and don't blow up the shop while I'm gone," George said reluctantly.  
  
"Take care," Fred said, and hugged his brother briefly.  
  
They punched each other in the arm affectionately, and went off in separate directions, both feeling slightly sad at the parting. Fred walked back through a relatively quiet Diagon Alley to number 93; it was almost opening time. With most of the population of Hogwarts stopping in over the past few weeks, a lot of the stock was depleted. He needed to check on some potions he had in various states of completion, and work on charming some the fake wands that George had prepared before leaving. Add some owl orders to that, and he had plenty to keep him busy. With a slight sigh, he unlocked the storefront and entered Weasley Wizard Wheezes, smiling at the purple stain on the front stoop. They hadn't even tried to clean the stain up, and left it as a sign that anyone attempting to break in would not get away unscathed. He imagined that Mr. Japes from the rival joke shop in Diagon Alley was still trying to get the stain (_and smell_) from his skin.  
  
Taking a look around, as he did every morning, Fred felt a swelling of pride and accomplishment at what he and George had done with their shop and their lives (with a little help from Harry Potter and his gift of the Tri-Wizard tournament winnings). They had been planning for this place for practically as long as they could remember. He made a mental note to send Harry a supply of their newest product, mirage mirrors, as soon as they were ready. Not only did he deserve advance products for helping them out, he would let them know how well the jokes had gone over, and if they needed any improvement.  
  
He was in the process of restocking the shelf from a crate of _Quiz Worthy Quills_ when he heard the commotion outside. He looked out through the front window of the shop, when he saw a young woman from behind, with familiar long red hair, struggling with a man, who seemed to be attempting to take her bag. The man was one that Fred had seen skulking around the entrance to Knockturn Alley on several occasions, and he was clearly making unwanted advances on her. The anger that instantly kindled a fire in his gut and turned the back of his neck red propelled him out the front door of the shop, as he grabbed a handful of _Shrieking Snaps_ from a barrel by the door on his way.

Without pausing to wonder why Ginny was not a Hogwarts, Fred took three of the snaps in each hand, forced his way between the combatants, and then clapped his hands hard over the assailant's ears, cursing as the powder inside them burned his palms upon detonation. The resultant shriek that emitted from each snap was enough to have the man howling in pain as his eardrums burst and his ears burned. He collapsed to his knees and held his hands over his scorched ears. Fred ignored him for the moment, to check on his sister's welfare, only to discover that the red headed woman was _not_ Ginny. _Uh-oh.  
_  
"Thank you so much!" The woman breathed, staring at the figure now writhing on the ground, "I don't know what you did, but thank you!"  
  
Fred was holding his hands gingerly open in front of him and looking confused, "You're welcome." he said. "Did he hurt you?"  
  
"No," she said with relief in her voice. "But I'm willing to bet he would have. He started following me from the moment I left the Leaky Cauldron, and I guess I panicked when I couldn't get my wand out of my bag."  
  
The noise had caused enough of a commotion that one of the other shopkeepers must have summoned the local members of Magical Law Enforcement. They ushered everyone off the street and into the shop to sort things out. There had been enough witnesses to the attack that the man, an Armand Dillinger (who was apparently a well-known petty thief), was taken into custody, and the woman, whose name turned out to be Carly Winters, was not charged. Once everyone but Carly and Fred were gone, she turned to him and notice that he was injured.  
  
"I'm sorry for causing you so much trouble; please at least let me tend your hands. It's Fred, isn't it? That's what You told the MLE."  
  
Fred nodded. It was obvious, now that he could see her face that she looked nothing like his little sister, aside from the color and length of her hair. She had creamy skin, untroubled by the freckles that ran in the Weasley family, and her eyes were a bright blue. She was beautiful. He shook his head to rid himself of that last thought. He had just barely met the woman! She had taken her wand out of her bag now, and was asking him to hold out his hands.  
"Hey! Don't worry! I've done this a dozen times! I'm an apprentice healer." She coaxed when he did not immediately comply.  
  
She firmly pulled Fred's hands forward, muttered a soft incantation under her breath, and smiled. All he had felt was a gentle warm tingle, and he wasn't all that sure that it had anything to do with the healing spell. He could see the symbol of the patch on her robes, now; a wand and a bone crossed.  
  
"So you work at St. Mungo's?" He cast his mind around for something to talk about; he wasn't ready to have her walk away just yet. There was something about her that was tugging at him, and he wanted to find out what it was.  
  
"Mmm," she said, inspecting his hands for any lingering traces of the burns. "Well, kind of. I'm in London to take part in some research going on there as part of my apprenticeship. I've got a ways to go yet, and when the opportunity arose to come here, I couldn't pass it up. That man who grabbed me was probably hoping I was carrying some classified potions or ingredients or something. He had a desperate sort of look about him, poor man."  
  
"Poor man?" Fred asked in disbelief. "Poor man! That poor man was about to do you serious harm."  
  
"Yes, I'm aware of that," She sighed. "But I've seen some of the nasty things that people with addictions can do without any idea of what they're doing."  
  
"And I've seen some of the nasty things that people can do with every idea of what they're doing," Fred countered. "Don't be too quick to dismiss his intentions. Are you sure you're all right? Would you like some tea?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine," she answered unconcernedly. "But tea does sound lovely if it's not too much trouble."  
  
Fred invited her to the small office behind the counter and seated her that the small table the he and George usually sat at when they ate lunch or wanted a break. He went about making tea, and then set two cups on the table before sitting down to join her.  
  
"You don't sound like you're from around here," He said conversationally.  
  
"I'm from America, actually. Though I have an Aunt and Uncle who live here in Britain. Uncle Nigel pulled some strings to get me accepted to the position at St. Mungo's. They want me to stay with them, but I really need my own little space. I got an apartment near to the hospital, and I'm supposed to be spending this week getting settled. I'm hoping they won't have to hear about what happened this morning; it would only worry them, what with Voldemort being on the move again." Fred flinched slightly at the sound of the name, but she made no comment. "It was quick thinking, by the way, the way you disabled him."  
  
"I thought you were my sister." Fred said, remembering the rage he'd felt when he'd thought Ginny was being mugged, "When I looked out, all I saw was your back. You have the same hair as her. I didn't really stop to think – he's lucky I didn't grab the Bogey Bombs, He wouldn't have liked where I would have shoved those."  
  
She laughed and sipped her tea, "So this is your shop?"  
  
"Yes. My brother and I opened last year," he said, unable to stop looking at her. "It's been our life's dream."  
  
"Well I didn't get to look around much, but you seem to have a very well equipped joke shop here. We didn't have anything like the stock you seem to carry at the joke shops at home. Not that me and my brothers and sister didn't manage to get into trouble, anyway," she complimented, with a hint of mischief in her voice.  
  
"George and I have invented about 80% of the stock ourselves." He answered proudly. "One of a kind merchandise."  
  
"I'll have to get a better look around when I have more time," she smiled, draining her cup and standing. "But I'm afraid I'm out of time today. I still need to get to Gringotts to open an account, and buy a few things for my new apartment."  
  
Fred felt a pang of regret that she was leaving, but could think of no reasonable excuse to keep her there. He walked with her to the door, and opened it for her,  
  
"Come back anytime, and I'll give you the grand tour."  
  
"I'd like that," she smiled, then stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "For rescuing me. Thank you for the tea."  
  
"Anytime." He said to her retreating back as he subconsciously put a hand to the cheek she had kissed, he could still smell that faint floral scent of her perfume, "Anytime at all."  
  
Fred kept himself busy for the rest of the day, stocking shelves, filling orders and dealing with what little traffic moved through the shop. At closing time, he missed George too much to head over to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink and a bite to eat, as was their custom. He simply headed up to their apartment and fixed a sandwich, and then sat at the small kitchen table with a book he had been meaning to read. He didn't often get a chance to read just for pleasure, and looked forward to finishing it before George returned and they would have to get to work on all of the new ideas that he was sure to come back with.  
  
He had only gotten to the end of the second chapter when he heard a scratching at the window, and looked up to see an unfamiliar barn owl with a note tied to it's leg. With a sigh, he went to open the window, sure that it would be an owl order from Hogwarts, only to find that it was from Carly. His mood brightened immediately as he read the short note:  
  
Dear Fred,  
  
Thanks so much for coming to my rescue this morning. My hero! I would like it if we could meet tomorrow and I'll treat you to lunch as a token of my appreciation, if that's convenient for you. I'd still like a tour of your shop, as well. Send an answer back with Kyna, she'll wait and bring it back to me.  
  
Hope to see you soon! Carly  
  
Fred read through the letter twice more. With a smile tugging at his lips, he pulled a quill and parchment from a drawer and wrote a response telling her that lunch tomorrow sounded great, and that he would look forward to seeing her then. He read it through to make sure it didn't sound too eager, then tied it to the owl's leg and watched it wing it's way back to it's mistress. Lucky bird. He closed the window and sighed; seemed like a long wait until lunchtime tomorrow. He'd had dates and flirtations before, but he hadn't felt an instant attraction for another woman like this before. It was kind of scary. His wished for a moment that George was here to discuss things with, then quickly dismissed the idea. Girls always seemed to fancy George; he was more outgoing than Fred tended to be. Maybe his trip to America would be a blessing in disguise. Fred sat back down and picked up his book, but never did get past chapter two that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two  
**  
Fred was anxious all the next day. He had woken early and gotten the bulk of the work he'd had planned for the day out of the way by lunchtime. He wanted to be available to spend as much time as possible with Carly, to explore what he was feeling. He'd reasoned that perhaps the strong attraction that he'd felt had been the result of adrenaline. He had been churned up over the thought of some man attacking Ginny, after all, and might have mistaken what he'd felt upon seeing Carly for the first time. Maybe this time she would walk in the door, and seem like any other ordinary girl he'd met. Maybe.  
  
Then again, even if he was as drawn to her today as he had been yesterday (which he probably wouldn't), she might not feel anything remotely similar toward him. The lunch invitation might be nothing more than a 'thank you' for helping her out. But if he did feel the same as he did yesterday (and she didn't), he could remedy that, couldn't he? He could always pour on the charm and win her over. Feeling a little better about things, he locked the cash box and put it away in the heavily charmed compartment behind the counter. He was just turning the Open sign to Closed when she walked in the door in pretty gray robes and a green cloak. He knew immediately that it hadn't been the stress of everything yesterday that had caused the attraction. His charm fled on the heels of rational thought, and he simply blurted out the first thought that came to his mind.  
  
"You're beautiful."  
  
He could feel his heart stutter in his chest as she laughed musically, stepped forward to kiss his cheek and said, "Oh, I can tell I'm going to like you! Are you ready to go? I don't really know what's good around here, so I'm going to have to ask your advice. Any favorite places to eat around here?"  
  
Fred suggested a restaurant not far from the shop, and was delighted when she took his hand and led him into the sparse crowds of Diagon Alley. Keeping his hand in hers, enjoying the tingle it sent up his arm, he listened to her animated conversation as they made their way to the Wander Inn. He supposed he made the appropriate responses, but he was having a hard time thinking about anything but her fingers intertwined with his own. They entered the dimly lit restaurant and found a table near a window, ordering their meal before settling their attentions on each other.  
  
"So, Fred Weasley," Carly began, smiling playfully, "let me see what I already know about you. You have a sense of humor; that explains the life long dream of having a joke shop. You're brave, and aren't afraid of rescuing a damsel in distress. You have a sister whom you are protective of, and a brother whom you run a shop with. You also have amazing eyes. Am I missing anything?"  
  
"Pretty good so far." He smiled back; trying not to blush over the compliment about his eyes, and took her hand across the table. "But you missed something."  
  
"What's that?" It was hard not to be charmed by a man who blushed over such a simple observation.  
  
"I seem to be a sucker for pretty red-headed Americans." Merlin, but he could spend the rest of his life getting lost in those eyes! He'd barely known her for twenty-four hours, and already he was fighting the urge to just pull her across the table and press his lips to hers.  
  
"Do you, now?" she asked with a raised eyebrow and teasing tone.  
  
"It's looking that way," he said, amused at them both.  
  
The meal arrived, and he reluctantly let go of her hand. As they ate, he tried to learn a bit more about the object of his sudden affection. He learned that she, too, was from a large family. She had three older brothers, and two sisters, and she was the youngest of the lot. They talked about the ups and downs of being from a large family, and laughed at the fact that both of their families seemed to have a strong disposition toward red hair. Carly, it seemed, had also been a Quidditch player when she had been at school. A chaser. They talked about British Wizarding Education vs. American, and found that they weren't so different from each other as they had supposed.  
  
Too soon, it was time to go back and re-open the shop. Fred tried in vain to pay for the meal, but she had insisted that she had initiated the date, and so it was her responsibility to pay. As they left the inn, they both noticed dark clouds beginning to gather in the sky, but Fred wasn't worried; they would reach the shop long before any rain began to fall. He took her hand in his, and led Carly back in the direction of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, wondering how long he could make a tour of the shop last. Many of the people that knew him waved in greeting, then did a double take at the sight of his companion. Like Fred, they assumed that it was Ginny with the long, fiery hair at first glance, but quickly realized that it wasn't so. He pointed out different shops and interesting things along the way, then sighed audibly when they arrived on the front step.  
  
"Thank you for a great lunch," he said as he unlocked the door. "I haven't eaten that well since the last time I visited the Burrow."  
  
"You're very welcome. You miss your mother's cooking?" she asked, following him inside, and turning the sign back to open for him.  
  
"Yeah. She's a great cook. Especially her treacle tarts," he confided with a wistful note in his voice. "I haven't had them in ages."  
  
"Why not? I got the impression that she doesn't live all that far away," Carly asked, looking up from a display of gross-flavored trick chewing gums. Something in the tone of Fred's voice told her that there was more to it than he was letting on.  
  
"No, they don't. It's just that, well...." He grinned sheepishly. "There was a little, er, incident the last time George and I were at home. To say it wasn't pretty would be an understatement. We figured that we would have to give her a little cooling down time, and er, time to get her hearing back before we visited again."  
  
"Sounds like more than just a little incident to me," she said, raising a brow with mock disapproval as she picked up a package of Puking Pastilles. She was looking the package over and suddenly looked up at him, "These are fabulous! Do you know you could probably market these as a medical product? To induce vomiting in people who've drunk unsafe potions?"  
  
Fred merely grinned at her in admiration and made a mental note to check into it. He liked seeing her wander around his shop discovering different items. She was collecting quite a few items as she went, and so he retrieved a shopping basket, and followed behind, holding it for her. She chose an extra large container of the Shrieking Snaps, declaring that the next time she saw her brother Shawn, he was going to pay for the regurgitation charm he had placed on her cauldron last month. Leading her around the shop, he laughed at her plans for many of the items she chose, and made helpful suggestions for others. By the time they had traveled the entire store, the basket was full and his mischief-maker's heart was lost to her. She paid for her purchases; not letting him make a gift of it as he had planned to do to make up for not being allowed to pay for lunch, and then said it was time for her to go.  
  
"When can I see you again?" Fred asked on a note of mild panic as she turned toward the front of the shop.  
  
"How about tomorrow?" she suggested without hesitation. "After you close up here?"  
  
"It's a date. Before you go, I have something for you." He swallowed hard, and then he did what he had been dying to do since he'd first laid eyes on her. He stepped forward, took her face gently in his hands and laid his lips firmly on hers, giving her plenty of time and opportunity to move away if she wanted to.  
  
She didn't want to. She dropped the bags she had been holding, and leaned into the kiss, offering her mouth with a sigh of pleasure, and didn't pull away when his arms found their way around her. She returned his embrace eagerly and wound her arms around his neck; one hand finding it's way up into his hair. It was a great deal better than he had imagined it would be. He lost himself in the flavor and texture of her, and never wanted it to end. It wasn't until there was a loud crack of thunder overhead that they came back to themselves and stepped reluctantly apart. They both looked out the front door of the shop to see the rain that had been threatening earlier come falling down in a heavy curtain.  
  
"I'd better go," She said, looking back at him and then reaching up to wipe a bit of her lipstick from his mouth. "See you tomorrow night?"  
  
"Yes," he answered, picking up her bags and handing them to her again. "Would you like me to pick you up?"  
  
"I'll just come here," she told him, only slightly playfully. "It's easier for you, and I don't know if I trust myself to be alone in my apartment with you.... That was some kiss; a bit more potent than I expected."  
  
"Yeah. For me, too," he admitted with a grin. The weakness in his knees told him that she had a valid point. He was already tempted to devour her right now, starting anywhere at all.  
  
The bells over the door chimed just then, and a customer came in out of the rain. The sound of the storm came through the open front door and made her cringe. "Mind if I borrow one of these?" She picked up a bright purple umbrella from a stand near the door, lifted it up above her head, and had begun to open it.  
  
It was too late by the time Fred cried out, "Not that one!"  
  
She lifted it above her head and opened it, and was promptly treated to a deluge of icy water from under the 'sheltering' side of the umbrella. Fred couldn't help the laughter that erupted out of him at the sight of her astonished face and the sound of her gasping scream. His customer, too, had broken into laughter at the sight, and promptly turned to Fred.  
  
"I must have one of those!"  
  
This only made Fred laugh harder, and Carly joined in, folding the umbrella closed and dropping it back into the stand saying, "I guess I won't need to borrow it after all! See you tomorrow!"  
  
He watched her through the store's front window, temporarily forgetting that there was a customer standing nearby, examining the Raining Umbrellas. Her red hair was still the brightest thing out in the street, even soaking wet, as she picked her way around puddles toward the Leaky Cauldron. Just before she disappeared from sight, she turned as if she knew he was watching, and waved. He waved back and watched until he couldn't see her anymore, then sighed heavily.  
  
"Looks like you could do with a cold shower yourself," the customer observed sagely.  
  
"That's the truth." Fred grimaced, and then turned away from the window and set his mind back on his work. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

That night, after closing, Fred was pleased to get a "Floo" from George. His twin didn't have long to talk, but he'd wanted his brother to know that he and Lee had arrived in America without incident. With his head sticking out of the fire, George filled Fred in on what they had done so far. It was very early in the morning there, and they were planning a trip to the village connected with the Salem Witches' Institute that day. They wanted to check out the local joke shop and hopefully talk to some of the students there. When asked how things at the shop were going, Fred bit his tongue as he was about to mention Carly, and simply replied,  
  
"Fine, things have been pretty slow."  
  
He had seldom deliberately lied to his brother, even by omission. Each of them seemed to know instinctively when the other was being untruthful or hiding something. When George had gone from the fire, Fred reflected on why he had done it. George might have teased him a little bit about having met a woman the moment he'd been left to his own devices, but it wouldn't have been that big a deal. Both he and George actually dated quite often, though not seriously, and Fred barely raised an eyebrow anymore when his twin announced he had a date. It was something else that had stopped him telling about Carly. Maybe it was because it was all so new, and he just didn't want to share it yet... He wanted to let things develop without outside influences. Besides, what was there to tell, really? He didn't want to acknowledge, even to himself, that he was already in love with her. It just didn't make sense for love to happen that fast or easily, and so he tried to dismiss it as impossible. What he was feeling was just infatuation.... Wasn't it?  
  
He didn't see the significance of the gesture when he sent one of the store owls to deliver a red carnation he'd picked from the window box to her with a note that read, "Thanks for today." Carly didn't miss the hidden message in the gesture, though, as she was looking through one of her herbology books when it arrived. She flipped through its pages until she found the section that listed the names of flowers with their meanings. "Carnation, Red: My Heart Aches For You." With a smile, she held it to her cheek for a moment, then conjured a small vase and put the flower on the table next to her bed. Who would have thought she would find London so enchanting?  
  
The next morning, Fred woke up and was whistling as he prepared to open the shop for the day. The prospect of seeing Carly again had him in a cheerful mood, and he wondered where they should go for their date. It took him a full hour to realize that one of the owls on the long perch by the window was his parents' new owl, Holle. Errol had finally been retired, and Fred and George had given their parents the new owl for their wedding anniversary. She had her head tucked under her wing, and was clearly asleep, though she hadn't delivered the letter tied to her leg yet. Typical. The Weasley family always tended to own quirky owls, each one with some sort of character flaw.  
  
He untied the letter from her leg without disturbing her, and read it with growing alarm. His mother wanted him to come to dinner. Tonight, no excuses. _Oh no_! The letter said that Bill and Fleur were coming as well, so at least he wouldn't be totally alone with his mother and father, whom he was not sure had recovered from his last visit home. He knew that the family meal was partially because his mother would be worried about him being lonely with George gone, but what was he going to do about Carly? Should he send her a note, saying he had to postpone? He really didn't want to do that, but he knew he couldn't get out of dinner at the Burrow. Invite her to come? Would she think that he was odd, or rushing her into "meeting the parents" at this point? The last thing he wanted to do was scare her away before he had the chance to convince her that he was the man of her dreams.  
  
After mulling it over, he decided that he would send word to his mother that he would be bringing a friend to dinner with him. If Carly decided not to go, he could at least spend an hour with her before going to the Burrow. He scribbled out his response, and then prodded the recalcitrant owl awake to deliver his answer back to its home. As she flew out of the window, Fred hoped he wasn't making a mistake. His family could be a handful, even in small doses, and might be overwhelming at first.  
  
There was a steady business all day long, which was unusual for a Wednesday, but not unwelcome. Quite a few parents had come in to pick up small treats to send their kids at Hogwarts, and some older "kids" came in to look around. A couple were friends from Hogwarts who had left school the previous year and wanted to see the new shop firsthand. He added ingredients that were due to be added to two of his potions, and readied the ingredients for a large order of Canary Creams that they would be sending out at the end of the next week to a convention of wizards that would be gathering in London from all over Europe. As anxious as he was to see Carly again, the day went by surprisingly quickly; it was closing time before he knew it. He was just sealing the bag of the day's receipts to go to Gringotts when she arrived, wearing pretty lavender robes, with her hair swept up away from her face in a way that made his stomach tighten with want.  
  
"Hello!" He called from the small office behind the counter.  
  
"Hello yourself," she smiled, meeting him as he came out, and kissing him lightly on the mouth. "Thank you for the flower."  
  
"Anytime," he said, resisting the urge to take her into his arms with great difficulty. He held up the deposit bag and asked, "Fancy a walk to the bank?"  
  
Carly turned the sign in the window to closed and followed Fred out of the store. They walked hand in hand toward the snowy white building where Fred made the deposit, then turned back toward the Leaky Cauldron. After they were served their wine, Fred broached the subject of a visit to the Burrow. He was slightly surprised, but very pleased, when she readily accepted the invitation; she was curious to meet some of the people he had told her about at lunch the day before.  
  
They apparated directly into the front garden of the Burrow, and walked to the front door from there. The house looked the same as ever; built up over time as extra room had been needed, and held together, for the most part, by magic. The front door opened before Fred could reach for the knob, and Mrs. Weasley stood in the doorway, wiping her hands on her apron.  
  
"Welcome to the Burrow!" she smiled at Carly. "Fred said he was bringing a friend with him. I'm Molly."  
  
"Mum, this is Carly Winters. She's here from America and getting ready to start work at St. Mungo's," Fred introduced. "Carly, my mother, obviously."  
  
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Weasley." Carly offered her hand, and instead of shaking it, Molly took it and led her into the house.  
  
"Please, call me Molly. You just come tight in here and make yourself comfortable."  
  
Fred followed behind, slightly worried. It was clear that his mother had taken one look at Carly and made up her mind automatically that she was important to him. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head as she wondered how long "this" had been going on. With and inward groan, he hoped she didn't embarrass him too much with stories of his formative years. Knowing his mum, she would do everything in her maternal power to ferret out any details by lulling him into complacency, then springing her attack. He'd seen the normally easy-going Bill blush furiously on several occasions as Fleur had been treated to several stories of her fiancée's childhood, and Bill had been the "good" child. He would just have to stay close and try to nip openings to any potentially damaging stories in the bud.  
  
No sooner had this thought crossed his mind, than his mother, who was steering Carly toward the living room, called over her shoulder to him, "Fred dear, go on out to the shed, will you dear, and tell your father that dinner will be ready in a few minutes? He out there tinkering with some strange muggle device he found."  
  
Fred wasn't at all sure he wanted to let his mother alone with Carly; he knew this was a ploy to get him out of the way for a few minutes. He nodded warily and went back outside. By the time he'd listened to his father tell him about his newest muggle acquisition, the 'eclectric razor,' a bizarre device that muggle men supposedly used to remove unwanted facial hair, and returned to the house with his dad. Carly was sitting on the sofa with Bill and Fleur, laughing merrily at something Molly had just said. With not a little trepidation, he sat beside her and prepared for a long, and probably mortifying, evening. It turned out that she had been introduced to his brother and soon-to-be sister in law while he'd been out at the shed, and so he introduced his father.  
  
"Fred's never brought a girl home with him before." Bill winked at Carly in a friendly teasing way.  
  
"And he hasn't brought one home this time," Arthur Weasley countered smoothly before Fred could even draw breath to make a rude comment or gesture to his brother. "He's brought a very lovely young woman. How are you finding London, Carly?"  
  
"I can see where Fred gets his charm, Mr. Weasley," Carly grinned. "I haven't had a dull moment from the minute I met him."  
  
"If Fred is being charming," Mrs. Weasley chimed in, placing dishes of roast potatoes and vegetables on the table, "he's either up to something or he must really like you."  
  
"Or both," Arthur agreed sagely.  
  
The family ignored the fact that Fred's ears were turning red, and continued having fun teasing him and getting to know Carly. Fred had almost no chance of getting a word in edgewise; he simply held the chair for her when dinner was announced, and sat next to her, letting the others ask the questions. He could learn a lot more about her that way, without seeming to be too eager for the information.  
  
With Molly's gentle prodding, they all learned about Carly's closeness with her family, her desire to become a fully qualified Healer, and her impressions of London. She listened intently to the discussions of the others as they talked about suspected Dementor attacks and Dark activity all over Britain. She was pleased that the Weasley family was so adamantly against the Dark Arts, and voiced her opinion about it when asked for it. She told them that two of her brothers, Kyle and Patrick, were members of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad in America, and her sister, Rowan, was a crime/dark arts reporter and columnist for the North American Interpreter; a popular daily newspaper in the States.  
  
At one point during the meal, Bill made a comment about international wizarding law that Fleur apparently disagreed with, and she made a short, pithy comment in French that had Carly chuckling into her goblet. Carly then made a comment incomprehensible to Fred, and apparently to everyone else but Fleur who simply answered, "Oui!" and the two young women laughed again.  
  
"You can speak French?" Bill and Fred asked at the same time.  
  
"Yes," Carly nodded. "My Aunt Suzette is French. She taught me years ago, and I visited her and Uncle Nigel in France often as a child before they moved to England."  
  
"Then you can help to interpret for me from time to time," Bill said with satisfaction.  
  
"Trust me," she answered back with a teasing smirk. "You don't want to know."  
  
Everyone was already so comfortable with Carly's presence that it did not seem odd to assume she would be around in the future. The meal was punctuated with laughter and a strange familiarity; it was as if she had been to dinner at the Burrow a hundred times before. After the meal was finished, they all retired to the living room and Fred decided now was the time the family would band together to try to embarrass him with stories. He thought about spiriting her away for a walk or moonlight broom ride, but she seemed to be having such a good time, he discarded the idea. He didn't miss the significant look that passed between his parents when Carly took his hand in hers, and didn't release it once he was seated next to her. With an inward shrug he settled in, and almost immediately regretted his decision when the topic turned to the incident he had mentioned to her the day before. As fate would have it, it was her own question that sparked it and started the story that was sure to become one of those stories of family legend.  
  
"Uh...Fred?" Carly had asked him quietly while Molly was passing around coffee, "Where are all of the pictures? There are nails up in the plaster, but the pictures are all missing."  
  
"Oh, well," Fred began, his ears beginning to turn red.  
  
"Yes, Fred," Bill chimed in loudly, overhearing her question. "Where are all of the pictures? Now that you mention it, didn't that wall used to be covered with family photos?"  
  
"And didn't there used to be a painting over the fireplace?" Fleur added, getting into the discussion with an impish grin. "And a mantle?"  
  
"I told you it was an accident," Fred said somewhat desperately to his mother, who was handing Carly a cup of coffee.  
  
"I'll have to take your word for it, as I couldn't hear anything for two days after the initial explosion," Molly said sternly.  
  
Carly was looking at Fred with a raised eyebrow and expectant expression that was a bit too much like his mother's and made him squirm slightly. He looked around appealingly at everyone else, but found only similar expressions staring back at him.  
  
"Okay, the first thing I want to say is that it was entirely George's fault," Fred began, and was answered with a chorus of laughter. "We had just opened the shop a couple of months before, and had come home to pick up a few of our things. We had had a couple of cauldrons full of experimental potions brewing, and moving them was proving to be a little trickier than we'd planned on. I came down the steps first, holding one of them, and George was holding the other. He missed a step, and dropped his cauldron, and when he fell, he hit me, and my cauldron spilled over. When the two potions combined, they had a bad reaction to each other, and boom!"  
  
"Boom, Indeed!" Molly sniffed, "Every last picture was blown from the walls, frames and all, and the mantle fell into the fire and melted instantly. I don't know how the two of them survived, but none of us could hear a thing for two days. I don't even know if I've found all of the pictures; I haven't had time to repair all of the frames and re-hang them, what with being on duty for the Order and...."  
  
Molly's hand flew to her mouth and everyone else looked surprised at the slip. The Order of the Phoenix was still a secretive organization, even with Voldemort's return being common knowledge, and Molly was usually its most guarded member (aside from Mad-Eye Moody). Carly looked at Fred first, then at the others, then took a sip of coffee and spoke into the uncomfortable silence.  
  
"And you didn't skin them alive? My mother would have stunned me where I stood and then screamed at me for an hour, whether I could hear her or not!"  
  
Fred was the first to recover and said, "We're too fast for Mum to catch us with a stunner, but I don't doubt she was screaming. George and I cleared away what we could of the potion and broken glass from the frames, then stacked all of the pictures we could find into crates and high-tailed it out of here."  
  
"Yes, well," Arthur said, grateful that Carly was pretending she hadn't noticed anything amiss. "Don't think you're off the hook yet, Fred. As soon as George gets back from America, the two of you are going to have some work to do around here."  
  
"So Fred and George are the family trouble makers?" Carly smiled. This was the sort of story she had been hoping to hear from the moment she arrived. There was nothing like family to give a girl an idea of the type of man she was dating.  
  
"Well the two biggest ones. We've just gotten a letter from Hogwarts about our youngest son, Ron, and his best friend Harry. Seems the two of them have been given detention for fighting. Honestly, if Ron doesn't watch his step, he'll lose his prefect badge!" Molly confided to everyone in general. "Though apparently the fight was with Draco Malfoy, so there's no surprise there."  
  
While everyone else in the room nodded in understanding, Fred told Carly, "The Malfoy family and the Weasley family have been on the opposite sides of everything as far back as anyone can remember. Add Harry Potter to the mix, and things tend to get ugly pretty fast."  
  
"Harry Potter?" Carly asked with some interest. "I know who he is, of course, but I didn't connect him with your brother. My uncle Nigel thinks the sun rises and sets on that boy, and likes to tell the story about how he met him in Diagon Alley once in a shop. He's sent us all newspaper clippings about him at home. My parents were reluctant to let me come to London, in fact, in light of Voldemort being back.... Sorry!" She added when everyone cringed at the sound of the name.  
  
"Well, I daresay that it won't be the last letter we get from Hogwarts." Molly sighed, frustrated with herself for the slip in secrecy; she would have to tell Dumbledore, of course.  
  
Talk began to turn to Bill and Fleur's wedding plans, and so Fred took the opportunity to excuse himself and Carly. They said their good-byes to the family, with an invitation for Carly to visit again very soon. They left by the front door, and out into the garden, where they planned to say their own good-byes and apparate to their separate homes. Their 'good-byes' didn't end until the front door opened again some time later, and Mrs. Weasley called,  
  
"Goodness! Are you two still out here?"  
  
"Just leaving now, Mum!" Fred called back somewhat breathlessly, while Carly stifled a laugh.  
  
"I guess moms are the same all over the world." Then she added, "I like yours. It's easy to see that your family really loves each other. I'll Floo you sometime tomorrow when I get back from my meeting at St. Mungo's."  
  
He nodded, and watched her disappear with a loud 'pop' of air, then apparated to his own doorstep, and home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Circumstances served to keep Fred and Carly from seeing each other until Sunday. She was only a week away from starting on the research project at St. Mungo's, and, in addition, she would be expected to continue treating patients as a Trainee Healer under the supervision of a Healer-in-charge a few days a week. She was spending her days at the hospital getting oriented to the routine there. Fred was busy enough at the shop, working on new stock and the few owl orders that seemed to filter in daily from Hogwarts. It seemed that having unique stock was paying off; the students couldn't find Skiving Snack Boxes and Bogey Bombs in Hogsmeade, so they had a corner on the market for the time being.  
  
He spoke to George via the Floo network on Friday night, and again didn't find an opening to tell him about Carly. He knew that he should be one to tell his twin, before he heard it from another member of his family, but just couldn't seem to find the words. What would he tell him, anyway? 'Hey, I met this great girl and I think I'm seriously in love with her?' It seemed like too much, and at the same time not enough. Just when he was thinking that he would tell George about her when he returned home (he'd have to, wouldn't he?), George had begun to act strangely, and told Fred that he wanted to stay in America for a couple of extra days to get some things sorted out for the return trip. Fred had been so relieved to have a little time with Carly all to himself, that he'd easily agreed that he could handle things at the shop by himself. It wasn't until George had gone from the fire that Fred had wondered what was keeping his brother in America longer than they had planned. He hoped that George, in his enthusiasm, wasn't bringing back anything that would be breaking and international laws.  
  
On Saturday evening, Carly contacted Fred via Kyna, her owl, saying that she had all of Sunday off, and suggested apparating somewhere remote for a picnic and a broomstick ride. She promised to take care of the food if he would find a good place to have it, and she would meet him in front of the shop at ten the next morning. Grinning at the prospect of a whole day alone with Carly, he sent his reply and went down to the shop to finish some paperwork he'd been saving for the next day. He wondered if Bill would take the mickey out of him if he flooed him about a good place for a picnic tomorrow....  
  
The day turned out fine, with a slight chill in the air that signaled the beginning of the cooler weather on it's way. Carly stepped into the back garden of the building she was renting a flat in; most of its occupants were employed at Mt. Mungo's. It was a pretty building, and much older than the type she was used to seeing in America. She found it humorous that the muggles that passed by on the street didn't even see her building, but an empty lot with a razor wire fence surrounding it. Because of the anti-apparition spells placed on the building for security reasons, she would be traveling a short distance to an approved apparition point to get to Diagon Alley. She checked to make sure she had everything she needed, including her broomstick, which she had charmed to look like a guitar case for the short walk in a muggle area. She was dressed in a sweater and jeans, and her long hair was braided down her back in anticipation of a later broomstick ride. She also carried her cloak over her arm so that she wouldn't attract the attention of muggles, for whom cloaks were not in fashion.  
  
She was really looking forward to spending the entire day with Fred. She had dated quite frequently in America, but had never felt a spark anywhere near like what she had felt for Fred from the first time they met. There had seemed to be an instant attraction between them, though she stopped short of telling herself that it was love at first sight. That sort of thing just didn't happen... did it? There was no denying that he seemed as eager as she was to spend time together, and get to know each other as quickly as possible. She would have to buckle down with her studies at St. Mungo's soon, and his brother would return from his business trip with more work for Fred. It seemed like fate had conspired to give them two weeks in which to cement the foundation of their relationship before work caught up with them both. She intended to take full advantage of whatever fate was offering.  
  
She'd thought, when she had first arrived in England, that her time at St. Mungo's would end up being the entire focus of her life, aside from her Aunt and Uncle; now she found herself counting the time until she could see Fred again. She felt slightly ashamed that she hadn't talked to anyone at home about him, even though she had just talked to her sister, Rowan, and she had mentioned meeting someone nice. Carly had just listened and told her sister she was happy for her, but had not given any news of her own. She had run out of excuses with Uncle Nigel and Aunt Suzette, though, who both had an uncanny talent for recognizing evasion, and had been coaxed into telling all about Fred and his family. They'd insisted that she invite him to dinner at their estate some time this next week. It had turned out that Uncle Nigel knew who Mr. Weasley was through his dealings with the Ministry of Magic, though they had never met. He had heard good things about him, though, and was looking forward to meeting his son, who appeared to be monopolizing much of his niece's time.  
  
But today, they had no other worries than finding a nice spot for a picnic and broomstick ride. With a sigh of contentment, she arrived at the apparition point. She donned her cloak and removed the charm on her broom as she stepped out of the back door of the Leaky Cauldron a few moments later and let herself into Diagon Alley. She waved to a few people she had come to recognize over the past couple of days on her way to number 93, but she found Fred, not on the doorstep of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but inside the shop. The door was unlocked, though the sign said, "Closed." There was a rucksack, his cloak and his broom on the floor in front of the counter, but he was standing behind it. He had what looked like grains of rice spread out over the counter top, and was muttering spells as he pointed his wand at each one. Curious, she went to see what he was working on.  
  
"Is that rice?" she asked as he looked up at her and grinned.  
  
"Yes," he answered, leaning over the counter to greet her with a light kiss, "Sorry I wasn't out front waiting, but I try to work on a few of these every time I get a few minutes free. They're a surprise for Bill and Fleur's wedding."  
  
"You're bewitching their rice?" she asked. "Won't your family kill you?"  
  
"Ah! Not bewitching, but charming! " he smiled. "Check this out!"  
  
He picked up three of the grains of rice he'd just charmed and threw them into the air, much as one might do for a newlywed couple. As they began their descent from near the ceiling, they gave off a faint glow and then transformed into small, white butterflies had fluttered gracefully in the air. Carly gave a small gasp of pleasure at the sight, and said,  
  
"That is well and truly one of the sweetest things I have ever seen. They'll love it. Do you have to charm each one individually?"  
  
"Yeah, unfortunately," he said, sweeping the ones he had finished into a large jar that had about three cups full of rice in it (only a billion more to go). "But it'll be worth it."  
  
"I could help you with it in my free time if you show me how it's done," she offered, picking up his cloak and handing it to him as he came around the counter.  
  
"I might take you up on that," he said, but he was thinking. 'I've got better plans than that for your free time.' Pulling his cloak over his shoulders and picking up the rucksack and broom, he led her out the front door and turned to engage the lock that set off the protection charms. "We're working on one or two more things for the wedding, but they're still in the developmental stages. We have time, yet, as the wedding isn't until the Easter holidays. You'll get to meet two of my other brothers and my little sister."  
  
She was pleased that he was including her in his future plans as a matter of course. It rolled so fluidly off his tongue, that she was sure he hadn't given any forethought. Was it really only six days since they'd met?  
  
"I thought you said that you have four brothers. I've met Bill, but..." she asked, but broke off, surprised to see a deep scowl and look of disgust come over his face.  
  
"I doubt you'll be meeting Percy." He practically spat the name past his lips. "He left the family just over a year ago, and hasn't been back. And good riddance!"  
  
"Fred!" she said, sincerely shocked that he would speak of one of his bothers in such a way.  
  
"Look," he said angrily, "Percy is persona non grata in my book. He made Mum cry and insulted Dad, and sold out to the Ministry when we needed him." He worked to master his emotions and tried again. "I'm sorry. That's a touchy subject with us Weasleys, and I didn't mean to snap at you. I'll tell you the whole story if you like, another time. Today is for fun. For us."  
  
She put a hand of comfort on his cheek and nodded in understanding. Here were some hurts that were in need of healing, but not the kind she was training for. She was curious about the rift that caused all of the anger in him, but she sensed it would take time. He was right; today was for them.  
  
They apparated to a lovely little spot in the countryside, with a little stream running through it, and a stand of trees nearby. Fred reconsidered his vow to slip Bill a puking pastille without an antidote for all of the teasing when he saw the place that his big brother had recommended. There wasn't a structure or any other sign of muggle life for miles and miles. They would be able to ride their broomsticks without any fear of being caught as much as they liked. They picked a spot close to a bend in the stream and Carly conjured a blanket and some cushions to recline on and then set the picnic basket on it. Fred pulled some bottles of Butterbeer out of his rucksack as his contribution to the meal, and set them next to the basket. After casting a charm to keep any pests away from their lunch, then took to the sky.  
  
It felt fabulous to be on a broomstick again! Carly echoed Fred's whoop of joy as they rose into the air, then followed his lead. They played a childish game of tag for a while, and then circled around the copse of trees in an air born version of hide-and-seek. Hovering high above the spot on which they had claimed for their picnic, they sat comfortably in each other's company and watched a fox come out of the woods to investigate the alien objects in its meadow, only to glance off the invisible shield that protected it.  
  
When at last they settled down to eat, they reclined on the cushions and Fred listened to stories about Carly's family. They sounded as close and loving as his own family tended to be, with the same types of disagreements between siblings, arguments over silly things and a joy of being together as often as possible. She talked about her family's Christmas tradition of sneaking into muggle houses and leaving evidence of "Santa Clause" behind, and the year that her father had been arrested by muggle police for breaking and entering. They worked their way steadily through ham and cheese sandwiches and fresh grapes, and washed it down with the Butterbeer, which Carly had never tried before.  
  
"I'm going to burst if I eat one more thing," Fred announced as he lay back, replete and sleepy.  
  
"Oh," Carly replied with some amusement, pulling a parcel out of her basket. "Then I guess I'll have to eat these treacle tarts I asked your mother to send all by myself."  
  
Fred's eyes shot open, and he sat up and stared at her in disbelief. She was holding one of the treats as if she was about to take a bite, but she was laughing at the same time. Noticing the look in his eyes was not one of greed; she lowered her hand away from her mouth and looked back at him, "You did say they were your favorite, didn't you?"  
  
He nodded and swallowed the lump that had suddenly risen in his throat. She was just sitting there, in a pretty blue jumper and denim jeans, her cloak cast aside as the day got warmer, and smiled as if she hadn't done anything out of the ordinary. His heart simply fell at that moment, and he couldn't fool himself anymore that love didn't happen as fast as this. Rubbing the faint ache in his chest with his fist, as asked, "You asked my mum to make me tarts?"  
  
"Of course I did!" she answered, as if it were a silly question. "I don't know how to make them. I'm not even sure of what they are. Treacle isn't a big thing in America. I assume it's something similar to molasses... Your mom said she would teach me to make them when I had the time to.... Why are you looking at me that way? They're only tarts."  
  
"It's the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me. Thank you," He said sincerely, not quite sure why he was so touched by the gesture.  
  
"You're welcome," She whispered as he leaned closer to give her kiss. She recognized that something significant was happening here, but wasn't quite sure what is was, so she gave herself up to the kiss and decided to puzzle over it later. When he broke the kiss, she asked, "Would you like a tart now?"  
  
"Later."  
  
It was nearly sundown when they packed up the remains of their picnic and apparated back to Diagon Alley. Neither of them wanted the day to end, so they had dinner at the Leaky Cauldron before saying good-bye. Fred walked back home in a state of euphoria, already wondering when they would have a chance to repeat the day. Half of his precious two weeks was already gone, and he wanted to make the most of what was left.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Fred awoke suddenly in the middle of the night to a cacophony down in the shop. There was the acrid stench that was unique to the shop's alarm system rising up to meet his nostrils, which told Fred that someone was attempting or had attempted to break in. Out of bed like a shot, he grabbed his wand from beneath his pillow and sprinted down the stairs to confront any intruder that had been foolish enough to stick around. He silently cursed the anti-apparition spell they'd decided to place on the building when they'd moved in when he tripped and stumbled wildly down the last three steps in his haste. He knew that any of the other shop owners who lived near Weasley's Wizard Wheezes would have been woken by the shrieking/banging/cracking noise currently emitting from his front door, and that someone would have summoned the law by now.  
  
Quickly performing a Bubble-Head charm to ward off the worst of the stench, he vaulted over the counter of the shop, and approached the front entrance cautiously.  
  
"_Quietus_," he muttered, and the sound died away. "_Lumos!"_  
  
As his wand tip ignited to light up the shop, he could see that the front stoop had a fresh coating of Perfectly Permanent Purple dye – an item the shop had yet to release to the general public until they could apply for a Ludicrous Patent with the Ministry of Magic. He opened the door and studied the relatively dry spot where it appeared a figure had been standing only moments before. The purple footprints led away in the direction of Knockturn Alley, but faded after a few yards as the dye dried. He was considering giving the intruder a pursuit, but was thwarted by the arrival of the Magical Law Enforcement team. He was getting to know some of them by name by now; this wasn't only the second time they been here since he and George had taken up residence. Luckily most of them had a sense of humor to go along with their sense of duty. As they arrived, they also performed the Bubble-Head charm on themselves to assuage their abused senses of smell.  
  
After Fred retrieved a cloak, and sprayed the stink-neutralizing potion around the doorframe and stoop, they all rid themselves of the Bubble-Head charm and got down to the business of taking Fred's statement of what had happened. The M.L.E. team leader, Jack Covington, examined the footprints and asked if Fred had any idea who might try to break into his place. "Well the first attempted break in was Declan Japes right after we first opened... he and Mr. Gambol weren't too pleased to have competition moving into Diagon Alley, and came to check us out, er, after hours. His hands and face are still faintly lavender, so I'm thinking he might not be so keen to be trying that again." Fred smiled in satisfaction. "What about that man from last week that grabbed Carly? That Dillinger fellow?"  
  
"No, It couldn't be him. He had several outstanding complaints against him, so we're holding him until his hearing. That's not for another two days," Covington said. "But we'll check on Gambol and Japes and...."  
  
"Excuse me." An elderly witch that Fred recognized as the proprietress of the bakery a couple of doors away approached the store entrance.  
  
"Mrs. Grist," Fred greeted the maker of his favorite chocolate cookies. "Did you see anything?"  
  
"Yes indeed, my dear," She nodded. "I was just coming down to start the days' bread dough when I saw someone hurry past my front store window. There's almost never anyone out on the street this early, so I went to the window to have a look. He walked right up to young Fred and George's delightful little place, and took something out of his cloak that I couldn't see...probably his wand. The street lamp was on the opposite side, so it was hard to see what he might be doing; then all that noise started up and he spun around really fast, with his hand up to shield his face, then he started running back this way, and I saw who it was...."  
  
Mrs. Grist seemed to get more agitated as her account of events went on, and now she seemed genuinely distressed. Fred stepped forward and took her work worn hands in his and asked gently, "You recognized him?"  
  
She nodded and looked sad and fearful before saying, "I'm so sorry dear, but it was your brother, _Percy_."  
  
"_Percy_?" Fred repeated in disbelief, "Are you sure?"  
  
"Quite sure, I'm afraid. How many times have I had you lot in my shop for biscuits and sweet buns over the years?" She affirmed. "It was definitely him."  
  
"Would you like us to track him down and question him?" Covington asked.  
  
"No," Fred said grimly after a moment's serious consideration. "This is a family matter, and we'll handle it from here."  
  
Fred waited until after breakfast to visit the Ministry. His wand was checked and registered and he was asked to bare both forearms for the security wizard before being allowed to proceed to the bank of lifts. He shared the small compartment with two witches who stood stiffly side-by- side, their body language suggesting that they were angry at each other. When one of them suddenly hiccupped and violet bubbles shot out of her nose, the other laughed nastily. Fred was glad to leave them to themselves as he got off at level two and made his way to his father's office. He passed the Aurors, and gave no indication that he recognized Tonks, despite the currently green mane of curls cascading down her back. The "sky" outside the windows today was overcast and threatening rain, and Fred wondered if the maintenance crew had chosen this weather in response to the present climate of the wizarding world  
  
At the end of the corridor, Arthur's office stood with its door open, and a man's deep booming voice was issuing from it, saying, "HELLO! HelLO! HellO! HELLo!"  
  
Fred looked in curiously to find Arthur looking through a reference book in consternation. He looked as though he had run his hands through his thinning hair several times over the course of the morning. On the desk in front of him stood a curious statuette of a shepherdess, which was continually booming out its greetings.  
  
"Oh, Fred!" His father said over the voice when he spotted him, "We confiscated this from a wizard in Devonshire who was apparently planning on giving it to a muggle relation as a gift."  
  
"That..."  
  
"Hello!"  
  
"...is deeply...."  
  
"HellO!"  
  
"...disturbing," Fred commented in between hellos.  
  
"Yes," Arthur agreed, speaking loudly so he heard over the noise. "But not as disturbing as the puffskein, kneazle, and krup they found there that do the same thing. I don't know what the man was thinking; he lives in a muggle-inhabited area! Anyway, what brings you here this early?"  
  
"I need..."  
  
"HELlO!"  
  
"...to talk to you..."  
  
"hello!"  
  
"...about something."  
  
"Yes!" Arthur nodded. "Just a moment... this one is tricky... the normal anti- spells aren't working."  
  
As he began thumbing through the reference book again, Fred picked up the offending figure, examined it closely, and then rapped its head sharply against his father's desk. When the head hit the edge of the desk, the statuette gave a highly garbled version of its greeting, and so Fred struck it again, with more force. The head detached from the shepherdess, rolling to the floor as the voice abruptly ceased.  
  
Arthur set the book aside and muttered, "Thank Merlin! That was driving me mad! Now, what did you want to talk about?"  
  
"Percy," Fred said bluntly and with some venom.  
  
"I see." Arthur removed his glasses and began to polish them on his robes, a sign that he was attempting to master some strong emotion, "What about him?"  
  
"He apparently attempted to pay me an unannounced visit last night," Fred said as calmly as he could. The sight of his father paling at the mention of his wayward son made him want to punch something.  
  
"What do you mean?" Arthur replaced his glasses to better gauge Fred's expressions as he spoke.  
  
Fred related the story of the attempted break in, and the testimony of Mrs. Grist. Arthur actually managed a weak chuckle at Fred's description of what Percy was bound to look like after his encounter with Weasley Wizard Wheezes 'early warning system' if he was, indeed, the culprit. He had, however, happened to pass Percy in the corridor earlier that morning, and hadn't notice any foul stench or odd color about him, though he had looked unwell.  
  
"Unwell, how?" Fred asked suspiciously. Mrs. Grist may be elderly, but she was no fool and had the eyes of a hawk. If she said that it was Percy outside the store that night, then she had seen Percy. Something wasn't right here, and Fred needed to find out what it was.  
  
"Just generally," Arthur said vaguely. "Like he hadn't had enough sleep."  
  
"This just doesn't make sense," Fred puzzled. "He might have been able to get rid of the smell, but he would have had to have shed about six months worth of skin on any area that the Perfectly Purple dye had come in contact with.  
  
"Well assuming that it was him, what would he have been doing? Why would he try to break in instead of just knocking on the door?"  
  
"Maybe because he knew that I wouldn't have let him in," Fred said. "But that doesn't answer the question of what he wanted there at four a.m. on a Monday morning; I doubt it was trick wands or Canary Creams. Should I go up to his office and ask him?"  
  
"No, Fred," Mr. Weasley sighed wearily. "He would just deny it and cause an ugly scene. It wouldn't accomplish anything."  
  
"I suppose not," Fred admitted. "I need to get back to open the shop. Let me know if you find anything out."  
  
"Will do, son. Just don't go picking a fight until we know for sure what's going on," Arthur advised. "Oh! How did your picnic with Carly go?"  
  
Fred blushed slightly and said, "It was great. Thank mom for the tarts."  
  
He headed for the Atrium apparition points, and paused only for a moment when he happened to see Percy walking in his direction, looking neither left nor right. His father had been right; Percy was looking tired and wan, and didn't even look at Fred when he passed with in a few feet of him. It was as if he hadn't even noticed Fred was there at all. Fred considered following him for a moment, but then discarded the idea; Percy would find a way to turn anything he said into something that might get their father in trouble at work.  
  
He continued back to Diagon Alley and began his day by stopping at the sweet shop and arranging for them to send Carly some candy flowers. He went to his own shop from there, and started by refilling the alarm system with Perfectly Permanent Purple dye and Stupendous Stink Solution. He checked on some potions, and poured some Fever Fudge into large square pans to cool. A few of the other shopkeepers stopped in from time to time to check on what had happened that morning with the MLE, and Fred assured them all that it had been a mistake, and that his older brother had set off the alarm by mistake. He also had inquiries into the possibility of him and George setting up similar security measures at other businesses in Diagon Alley.  
  
At noon, Kyna fluttered in through the window with a small package tied to her leg. He untied it, and unwrapped the parcel to find two treacle tarts and a note:  
  
_Dear Fred,  
  
Thank you so much for the 'flowers' you had delivered. They are too pretty to eat! I am sending you the last of the tarts that were left over from yesterday. I had such a nice time; I hope we can do it again, soon.  
  
My Aunt and Uncle would like it if you could join us for dinner on Wednesday evening at six o'clock at their home. They say they want to meet the young man I'm always sighing over.  
  
I have to go to St. Mungo's for a few hours this afternoon, but if you're free, why don't you come to my place for dinner tonight, around 7? Send an answer back, and I hope I'll see you this evening.  
  
Love, Carly  
_  
Fred stared for a moment at the "Love, Carly" part, then grabbed a piece of parchment and answered back. It was only fair that he agreed to meet her Aunt and Uncle after she so bravely faced his parents after on a couple of days of meeting him. As for dinner that evening, he wasn't about to turn down a chance to spend time with her and see where she lived. He would also need to teller about Percy and the attempted break-in, which he was not looking forward to. He didn't like to talk about his brother's betrayal, and didn't want to expose Carly to the ugliness that had been caused by the return of Voldemort. Still, it couldn't be ignored if he intended take his relationship with her further (_which he did_).


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

When Fred arrived at Carly's apartment and knocked on her door, he felt someone watching him, and turned to look down the hall we had just come down. One of the three doors on the opposite side was open a crack, and there was a curious eye was visible there, taking note of his red hair, navy colored robes, and the bouquet of flowers (real this time) in his hand. Fred smiled and waved at the resident and chuckled, as whomever it was quickly closed the door. Carly opened the door just then, looking a bit nervous, but very pretty in her white St. Mungo's robes, with her hair in a knot on top of her head.  
  
"Hi," she greeted him, stepping forward to press her mouth to his. "I'm surprised Mrs. Dunmeyer isn't spying on us. She usually never shuts her door."  
  
"I think I must have spooked her," Fred said, holding out the flowers. "These are for you."  
  
Carly smiled and brought the bouquet of red tulips to her face to smell them, wondering if he knew he had brought her blooms that represented a declaration of love. Whether he did or not, they were lovely, and she stepped aside to invite him into her home. "Two bouquets in one day! You'll spoil me."  
  
"That's the idea." Fred winked as he followed her into her flat. He decided to bide his time before telling her about Percy and the attempted break-in. Knowing he was being a bit cowardly, he concentrated on relaxing and waiting for an appropriate opening to bring the subject up.  
  
The inside of Carly's apartment was a warm and inviting. There was a small hallway with three doors off of it that he supposed led to the bedrooms and bathroom, and then a larger room that served as a living room, office and dining area. The kitchen was at the far back of the great room, separated by a swinging door. The furniture was grouped in such a way as to separate the room into distinct areas, to create the illusion of more space.  
  
In the little time she had been here, she had managed to add little personal touches to everything and transform it into a home. He liked it immediately. He hung his cloak next to Carly's on one of the hooks by the door and looked around. A few small boxes were stacked neatly against one wall, with labels that told Fred that she hadn't quite finished unpacking, but he couldn't see anything that was missing in the room. There were jewel- bright pillows on an old, fancy velvet couch and matching chair, and a low table between them that held a pretty ruby colored oil lamp. A slightly cluttered desk sat against the far wall, with an assortment of quills, ink and parchment in varied colors scattered over its surface. Kyna sat contentedly near the open window on a highly stylized wrought iron perch, watching this newcomer move about the room, taking everything in.  
  
Fred examined the only artwork adorning her walls, a painting of the sea, with waves crashing against the shore. It appeared to be low tide, and a small redheaded child was crouched by a tidal pool, a short stick in hand, seemingly examining something below the surface. A gull swooped lazily in an out of the frame, and every once in a while another child with flame colored hair would run quickly in and out of sight. Carly went to the kitchen to fins a vase for the flowers, and came back to place them on a low side table when she noticed what he was looking at.  
  
"My mother painted that when I was just a child," she said, coming to stand beside him. "We were on holiday in France. That's my sister Rowan there; the rest of us must be off playing somewhere."  
  
"It's really good. Is your mother an artist?" Little Rowan stuck her hand into the tidal pool and pulled out a starfish.  
  
"It's just a hobby, she says, but it doesn't stop people from commissioning portraits from time to time." Carly smiled fondly at the picture and then turned away to finish setting the tabl. "I hope you don't mind, but I stopped at a Muggle restaurant and picked up some dinner. I didn't have time to cook anything myself, and I have a terrible weakness for pizza."  
  
"Do you do that a lot?" Fred asked curiously. "Visit Muggle shops?"  
  
"Not a lot, no," she answered, lighting the candles in the center of the table with a wave of her wand. "But I like to wander into one every once in a while. I like watching them and seeing all of the things that they think up to do the simplest tasks with out magic."  
  
They sat down to eat, and Fred told her all about the razor contraption his father had shown him at his last visit home. They discussed Muggles in general, and different observations that they each had made about them while they enjoyed their meal. Comfortable in each other's company, they moved to the couch when they were finished with the pizza, and Carly lit a fire in the little grate under the painting he had admired earlier. There were now two children, a boy and a girl, building a sand castle in it, paying no attention to the rising tide that would doubtless wash away all of their hard work in the next hour or so. The skinny little boy reminded Fred of Percy and he stared at it for a few moments while gathering his thoughts for what he was about to tell her.  
  
"So are you going to tell me about what's been bothering you?" Carly asked shrewdly. "You've had those little lines in your brow since you got here."  
  
Fred wasn't surprised at her observation. She had gotten to know him very well over the past week, and he was grateful that she had given him the opening to tell her everything he needed to say. With a nod, he answered, "It's about Percy."  
  
Ah, thought Carly, The missing brother. She moved closer to him and took his hand in hers for comfort and encouragement.  
  
"Okay," she said evenly. "Let's hear it."  
  
He started by telling her about last night's events and how Mrs. Grist had seen Percy fleeing from the scene. He explained about the visit to his father at the ministry and about seeing Percy there, but being overlooked by him.  
  
"Okay," Carly said, when he took came to the end of that part of his account. "A couple of questions come to mind. First, when the alarm went off, why didn't he just apparate instead of running away? Was it panic? Was he running blindly, or did he have a destination in mind?"  
  
"I've asked myself those very same questions, but haven't come up with a satisfactory answer," Fred answered. He smiled slightly at the unconscious way Carly was stroking his hand to comfort him.  
  
"Secondly, why would he pretend not to see you?"  
  
"I'm not sure that he was pretending," Fred said thoughtfully. "If it had been anybody else, I would have said that he was hung over or something; he just seemed really out of it... I guess for you to understand all of this, I need to go back a couple of years. I've never really gotten along with Percy. He's always been a by-the-book type of guy. He just lives for rules and regulations and sees everything as black or white, very little or no gray. When he graduated from Hogwarts, he got a job with the Ministry of Magic (with our father's help) with the Department of International Magical Cooperation. He loved his job and was constantly talking about his boss. We used to joke that he would never go home if they didn't make him; he was really obsessed with dong a perfect job and advancing in his career. I think that he really believes that he'll be Minister for Magic one day."  
  
"Is that so impossible?" Carly asked. She wondered if Fred's opinion was colored by his personal feelings.  
  
"It is if he doesn't open his eyes and take the blinders off," Fred said bluntly. "I was about to start my sixth year at Hogwarts when he got his first job. That year, the school tried to resurrect the Tri-Wizard Tournament; a series of tasks that one champion from each of three schools would be chosen to participate in...."  
  
Fred went on to explain the events of that year, and how Percy's boss, Barty Crouch, had been under the Imperius curse, and was being controlled by Lord Voldemort, living in a rudimentary body he had created to sustain him until he could be restored to his own body. How Percy had blithely taken orders from an Imperius controlled Crouch, delivered daily by owl. How he had ignored and made excuses for Crouch's odd behavior and extended absences so that he, Percy, would not lose his own position of newfound authority. When it had been discovered that Crouch, Sr. had been under the Imperius curse, and that Percy had failed to notice anything amiss, Percy's situation had looked very bad, indeed.  
  
The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had been an imposter all along, and had in fact been Barty Crouch, Jr., (whom everyone had believed to be dead) working for Voldemort. He had been put in place to try to lure Harry away from Hogwarts so that Lord Voldemort could use him to get a body back, and then dispose of him. Harry had witnessed the re-birth of Lord Voldemort, and the murder of a fellow Tri-Wizard champion, and then narrowly escaped back to Hogwarts to warn them all. When Harry had told his story to the Minister himself, Cornelius Fudge had refused, outright, to believe it. Crouch's odd behavior was written off as a nervous break- down, and his son was given the Dementor's Kiss – his soul was utterly gone – and could not give testimony of the events that led up to Voldemort's re- birth.  
  
The Ministry completely turned it's back on the evidence, and had vowed to put an end to the 'hysteria' that Fudge believed Harry was trying to start in the Wizarding World. The summer following Fred's sixth year, Percy was suddenly offered a position as Junior Assistant to the Minister for Magic.  
  
"That sounds like an important position," Carly said, when Fred paused. "Especially for someone who had just made such a huge error in judgment in his last position."  
  
"That's what my father said," Fred nodded in agreement, "when Percy came home with the news. He was so excited and proud of himself, and actually thought he had earned and deserved a position that would normally have taken him years to achieve. When my dad brought it up, he completely glossed over the fact that he had been the focus into an inquiry about Crouch, Sr., and had been reprimanded for not informing a superior about his boss's unstable state. Next thing we all know, he's been offered a prime position in the Minister's own office."  
  
"Why would they do that, if they doubted his abilities?" Carly asked with a puzzled expression.  
  
"That's where the trouble really starts. You see, the headmaster at Hogwarts is Albus Dumbledore, a very powerful..."  
  
"Oh! I know who he is!" Carly interrupted. "My Uncle Nigel is very fond of him. I met him once, when I was about ten; he came to dinner at my Aunt and Uncle's while I was visiting. My family at home was all outraged when we heard about how he was being slandered and discredited here. Go on."  
  
"Well when Fudge outright refused to accept that Harry was telling the truth about You-Know-Who's return, he and Dumbledore came to a parting of the ways. Fudge convinced himself that Dumbledore was trying to get him to back a false story in order to make him look bad, and then expose him as a fool, and take over Fudge's position at the Ministry. It's just complete rubbish." Fred spoke vehemently as Carly gave his fingers a squeeze in support. "Dumbledore has always believed Harry, and my parents have always believed Dumbledore. When Percy was forced to choose between the two, and decide whom he was going to trust, he chose to believe in Fudge and the Ministry over Dumbledore and our parents. Fudge then makes it well known that anyone who is in contact with, or supports Dumbledore will get sacked. He's wanted to sack my father for years, and...."  
  
"Why on earth would he want to get rid of your father?" Carly asked, sincerely shocked at the prospect.  
  
"Because Fudge is a Purist. My family is pure blood, but like I told you, my dad loves Muggles and all of their crazy contraptions. He works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, and hasn't had a promotion or a pay raise in the five years that Fudge has been Minister; prejudiced old prat that he is. You may have noticed that my family isn't exactly living a lavish lifestyle... well Fudge can be thanked for a great deal of that. Anyway, when my dad points out that Fudge may be using him as an unwitting spy to find out who is in contact with Dumbledore – mainly my Dad- Percy went nuts. He started insulting my father and saying that he's a big joke around the Ministry, and that he's embarrassed to be a member of our family...then he went on about how Dumbledore is a fool and that if Mum and Dad were going to follow him, then they were fools, too. He said that he was gong to make sure that everyone knew that he no longer considered himself a member of our family, and moved out of the house and into an apartment in London. He made Mum cry."  
  
Fred's voice had been getting increasingly gruff as he fought back the feelings of anger and betrayal he felt toward his brother, and he had to for the last few words out around the lump that had been steadily growing in this throat. The memory of his mother's heart broken tears was painted indelibly on his mind's eye, and he knew that no matter what else happened, it would be a long, long time before he forgave Percy for that. When he looked up into Carly's sympathetic eyes to see tears pooled there, his heart melted.  
  
"There's been little contact from him since then. Mum went to try and reason with him, but he just shut the door in her face. He sent back the sweater she made him for Christmas... That was when I wrote him off as a total loss. He even sent Ron a letter at school to try and turn him against Harry and Dumbledore and join ranks with Delores Umbridge; she was this foul little witch from the Ministry, sent in to spy openly on Dumbledore. George and I had had enough of Umbridge by the middle of May, and left school to start up our business, so we weren't there when..."  
  
"You left school?" Carly put a hand up to interrupt him once more. She was shocked at the impish grin he shot her at her stunned question. "You never finished school?"  
  
"You sound like my mother," he teased, tugging playfully at her fingers. "Yes. I quit school. But that's a story for another time. Where was I? Oh yeah, we weren't there when things really began to happen. You see, Harry was tricked by You-Know-Who into believing that his Godfather, Sirius, was being held and tortured in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry."  
  
Fred gave some of the background story of how the fires and all mail had been policed by Umbridge, and Dumbledore had been ousted from the school at the time. Professor McGonagall – his second in command – was in St. Mungo's recovering from an unprovoked attack, and so Harry felt like he didn't have anyone he could trust to help. He tried to convey how hopeless the situation had seemed and why Harry had felt it necessary to risk getting caught using Umbridge's fire to try to discern the truth of Sirius's whereabouts. Fred still felt somewhat guilty about not being there to lend a hand when push came to shove, but went on with his story,  
  
"He was determined to get to London to save Sirius, and so my brother Ron, my sister, Ginny, their best friend Hermione and a couple of other kids rode Thestrals to the Ministry."  
  
"You're joking." Carly was hanging, amazed, on Fred's every word. "Aren't they dangerous?"  
  
Fred explained about Hagrid and the herd of Thestrals, and about how it had all been a trap to catch Harry. He was still unclear about much of what had happened, but told her what he did know about what his brother, sister and the others had done in the Department of Mysteries in order to escape. He had to stop to gather himself a moment before telling her about how Sirius had been killed in a duel with his cousin Bellatrix when he and some other 'friends' had shown up to help the students. Carly merely continued to stoke his hand and listen intently to everything he had to say.  
  
"Harry took off after Bellatrix in a blind rage, and all I know about what came next is that Dumbledore showed up and dueled with You-Know-Who, and saved Harry. You-Know-Who got away, but not until a whole slew of people from the Ministry saw him. It wasn't until Fudge saw You-Know-Who with his own eyes that he finally admitted that he had been wrong, and that perhaps Harry wasn't mental after all. The Daily Prophet started printing all of these articles about how the Ministry screwed up and how poor, poor Harry Potter had been terribly maligned, when he had been the stalwart defender of truth, blah, blah, blah," Fred said. He took a deep breath as if to cleanse all of those terrifying images from his mind. "So then we figured that Percy would be bound to admit he'd been wrong and come and apologize to us."  
  
"But that didn't happen," Carly surmised. "Why?"  
  
"Well, to be honest, I'm not sure," He answered, his brow furrowing at the memory. "Percy did send a letter home saying that he was sorry to have doubted You-Know-Who's return, and would like to meet with Mum and Dad. Dad thought it over, and decided to invite him to dinner and see what he had to say. We all thought for sure that he would come back, apologize for being such a bone-headed prat, and beg for forgiveness. Mum would gather him in like a mother hen, and that would be that."  
  
Carly rose to stoke the fire and make tea. It was getting quite late, and Kyna had swooped out of the window in search of a meal. She pointed her wand at the kettle, causing a cloud of steam to issue forth. She dealt with the tea efficiently, and filled two cups, adding milk and sugar to his before passing it to him and sitting beside him again. "What happened to change that?"  
  
"Well, I wasn't there when Percy went for dinner at the Burrow. I wasn't ready to listen to what he had to say, but I got the whole story from George and the others." Fred explained, remembering the angry expressions on George and Ron's faces, and the tears in Ginny's eyes when they had all appeared at the shop late that night. "He had come, right on time, and was acting strangely right away. He knocked on the door for one thing; the front door. We haven't opened the front door since I was seven. We've always used the kitchen door, and I guess it took them a while to figure out that he was even there. No one ever knocks on our door! We're not the type of family that stands on ceremony most of the time. When they finally got the door open, he acted stiff and formal, which isn't all that unusual, I guess, considering he had his proverbial hat in his hands, but they said it seemed weird, even for Percy. He sat down in our father's chair at the dinner table, and just stared at everyone when they glared at him. When Mum finally brought up the subject of why he was there, Percy acted like she didn't know what she was talking about, and said something to effect of, 'You're the one who invited me here.' and said that yes, he had been wrong about Voldemort's return, but not about anything else."  
  
Carly nearly bobbled her teacup; it rattled noisily in her saucer, and she set it down hastily before it spilled. True, that she had only met Fred's family once, but what she was hearing about Percy's behavior didn't seem right. Fred set his cup down, as well, and his face was grim as he recalled everything George, Ginny and Ron had told him about the meal.  
  
"That's just so...." Carly could hardly think of a word to describe what she was thinking, "...wrong. It sounds as though he went there to deliberately stir up more trouble."  
  
Fred got up to pace angrily in front of the couch while he told the rest, "It sounds exactly like what he wanted to do. Why else would he come? George said that Percy acted as though he was expecting our parents to be the ones apologizing to him. He told them that even though Voldemort had returned, as Harry had said, he was right to side with the Ministry. He said that we couldn't honestly have expected Fudge to put the Wizarding World into a panic based on the word of a fourteen-year-old boy and an old man who was losing his marbles. He said that there just hadn't been any tangible proof for him to act on. He also claimed that he was still convinced that Dumbledore was losing his grip on reality, and that Fudge was perfectly justified in everything he had done."  
  
Carly snorted derisively, and Fred came to sit down next to her again. Her cheeks were flushed from the indignation she felt on his behalf, and her mouth was set in a way that reminded him strongly of his mother's when she was angry.  
  
"Things would have gotten really ugly after that, but Percy apparated just before Ron and George got to him." Fred sighed. "The worst part of it was Mum. She just sat at the table staring at everyone in disbelief, then excused herself and started doing the dishes like nothing out of the ordinary had even happened. The others had wanted to hunt Percy down, but Dad forbid it, saying it would only upset Mum more. We haven't had any real contact with him since."  
  
They sat in silence for a few minutes, holding hands and staring at the fire without really seeing it. Carly was going over everything she had just been told in her head, trying to make sense of it all. It wasn't until Kyna returned from her hunt that George stirred from his own thoughts and caught site of the clock above the desk. He hadn't realized that it was getting quite so late, and stood, saying, "I'm sorry. It's well past midnight, and you have to get up early for work."  
  
"Don't be silly," she protested, also standing, and following him to the door. "I'll be lucky if I can sleep at all for thinking about all of this."  
  
"Thank you for listening. If I don't talk to you before then, I'll see you at your Aunt and Uncle's on Wednesday." He rested his forehead briefly against hers, and then with a light brush of lips, they said good-bye.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven  
**  
Fred spoke to George by Floo the next morning, and told him about the attempted break-in and his visit to their father. George had uttered several succinct swears by the time Fred had finished, and had agreed that it didn't make much sense, but that he would think it over, and they could brainstorm about it later. Fred learned that George had a lot of new ideas to run past him when he returned, and confirmed that he would be home one week from tomorrow, and that he was bringing a surprise with him.  
  
"I have a surprise for you, as well," Fred forced out, thinking of Carly.  
  
Carly and Fred were both too busy to see each other that day, and so arranged by owl to meet at her Uncle's estate. Fred won approval from her aunt immediately by arriving with a large bouquet of mixed flowers for the hostess, and a single rose for Carly. They had an enjoyable meal together, and Fred found that he liked Mr. and Mrs. Winters very much. Mrs. Winters was a slender woman with dense sable hair that she wore in and elaborate twist, and frank chocolate eyes that seemed to take in everything. She looked Fred up and down, and made him glad he'd worn his best robes, and then insisted immediately that he call her Suzette. Mr. Winters was a tall, distinguished looking wizard with dark hair that was turning silver at the temples. He asked Fred to call him by name, as well, and might have looked imposing if not for the character lines etched into is kind face. They had a warm and friendly manner that put him at ease, and their love for their niece was obvious in their every word.  
  
After the meal, Fred lost spectacularly to Carly's uncle Nigel at chess while her aunt Suzette sat knitting, and talked animatedly in a pleasant French accent about the 'news' she had heard from her good friend, Amelia Bones, over lunch that day. It seemed that Narcissa Malfoy was causing a fuss at the Ministry once again, outraged by the treatment of her husband, who had been imprisoned in Azkaban six months ago, for a break in at the Ministry of Magic. Lucius' presence in the Ministry, dressed as a Death Eater and in the company of other escaped Death Eaters, had thrown the wizarding world into a tailspin.  
  
"When Fudge refused to see her, she showed up in Amelia's office demanding his release, but Amelia flatly refused and asked her to leave. Narcissa turned syrupy-sweet, then, and asked if perhaps a sizable donation to St. Mungo's might help 'move the legal process along.' Well you can imagine Amelia's reaction to that!" Suzette chuckled. "I'm surprised that Narcissa didn't end up in a holding cell for attempted bribery of a ministry official."  
  
"Yes," Nigel had nodded, moving a pawn into place. "I've had dealings with Lucius in the past, and I must say I found his ethics rather disturbing. That man used money to buy his way into the ministry without ever holding a post within it, but I was shocked by the news all the same."  
  
"How Fudge has managed to slip through all of this without an inquiry is what puzzles me," Suzette said. "And Amelia won't say a word about it, of course."  
  
"He will have a reckoning, my dear," Nigel assured his wife. "It's no secret that he kept company with the Malfoys both at the Ministry and socially. There's been talk of corruption, and the wizarding public will demand an answer; is already demanding it. It may happen sooner than any of us think."  
  
Fred made non-committal noises as he considered his next move on the chessboard, but looked up, startled, when Nigel commented, "I've been hearing rumors that Albus Dumbledore had been fighting against the rise of You-Know-Who for a whole year before the incident at the Ministry of Magic. They say that he has his own private group who are loyal to him, and working to unseat Fudge."  
  
With the blood rushing in his ears, Fred managed an amused chuckle and made a rash move in the chess game as he said, "Well I know how that rumor got started."  
  
Everyone in the room focused their attention on him, and he tried to keep his voice and body language casual. "During my last year at school, some of the students formed an illegal group to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts, since our teacher was so set against letting us use magic. We named the group Dumbledore's Army as a joke against the Ministry, and the Minister was going to expel Harry Potter because he was the leader of it, and was caught leaving one of the meetings. Dumbledore took the blame to divert trouble from Harry, and Fudge took it to heart that Dumbledore was forming an Army against him."  
  
"Ah yes," Nigel smiled. "I was at the Ministry on business the day Fudge announced that Dumbledore was a wanted fugitive. Even sent Prophet articles to my brother and his family in the states; do you remember, Carly?"  
  
"I remember." She nodded, looking speculatively at Fred. She had not missed the alarmed look that had crossed his face before he had given the explanation of the rumor.  
  
"I daresay that Dumbledore ought to have really formed his army," Suzette commented. "And perhaps the Dark Mark wouldn't have been sighted over two houses in Leicester just last week. Dark days are upon us again, I'm afraid."  
  
"The winds of change are certainly blowing," Nigel agreed. "But I'll put my faith in Dumbledore, with or without his own private army."  
  
Fred was feeling decidedly sulky on Saturday afternoon. He and Carly had not seen each other since he had seen her home after dinner with her Aunt and Uncle. He had been looking forward to seeing her that night, but had just received an owl from her saying that she would not be able to see him until Sunday. To lift his spirits, he sent a package to Ron at school, a 'congratulations' gift for beating up Malfoy. The small box with the swirly WWW monogram on the lid and seal held a couple of chocolate frogs, and one package that looked like a chocolate frog, but would turn his hair blue until he took an antidote. He would send the antidote along in a couple of days. He affixed a special seal to the box and watched as one of the store owls flew away, and wishing he could be there to see the look on Ron's face when he realized what had happened to his hair.  
  
When that failed to bring him completely out of his doldrums, he took a few samples of Canary Creams and placed them on a platter with a sign that said "Free sample! Try one!" He brought a small, spindly table out onto his stoop and set the platter on it, then retreated back inside. Saturdays in Diagon Alley often brought witches and wizards to shop from far away, and so he had a good chance of some unenlightened people trying the tart-like pastries as they passed by. He was sure to get some entertainment and some business out of it. Canary Creams were one of WWW's most popular items, and he was looking forward to showing George the Chicken Chocolates he had perfected over the past couple of days, and wondered if he should put some out on the platter with the Canary Creams to test them out. He decided against it, sure George would want to share in the fun, and went back to the counter to watch from there.  
  
Once, a wizard stopped to examine the sample offering, and Fred tried to look busy so as to not make him suspicious, but a friend stepped up and pointed to the sign above the shop, which bore their name and logo. They went away down the road, and Fred went back to charming rice in between customers. As he bagged a purchase from a witch who had come in looking for Singing Soda (Drinker beware! Before long, you'll burst into song!), he looked up to see Carly's uncle picking up a Canary Cream from the platter and giving it a cautious sniff. Fred raised a hand, intending to warn the man of the consequences, then shrugged. They had discussed the joke shop at length when he'd gone to Winters Manor for dinner, so he had been pretty much warned. He bid the witch a nice day, and then watched with a grin as Nigel popped the pastry into his mouth. He walked into the store and had just said, "hello," when the custard treat did its work. Nigel Winters stood in front of the counter, covered in bright yellow feathers, and Fred tried very hard to pretend he hadn't noticed. Carly's uncle had seemed to have a good sense of humor, but you never knew how one would react to turning into a large canary. Once he had molted back to his normal state, he doubled over, and gave Fred a start. Fred was ready to vault over the counter to see if he was all right, when the subject of his concern straightened, and Fred could see that his face was contorted with laughter. With a huge sigh of relief, Fred relaxed and waited until Nigel had composed himself. "My boy," he wheezed, wiping at the tears of mirth on his cheeks, "that has got to be the best trick I've ever seen."  
  
"Thank you sir. What brings you here?" He used his wand to conjure a glass and a pitcher of water to pour him a glass.  
  
"Just wanted to see the place in person, after hearing Carly and you talk about it. I'm going to have to take some of whatever I just ate for one of my colleagues." He eyed the glass Fred handed him suspiciously before drinking the water. "They're brilliant! What else have you got here?"  
  
Fred gave Nigel a personal tour of the shop, and demonstrated a few of the items that caught the older man's interest. He was no less enthusiastic than his niece, and soon had a basket full of Canary Creams, trick wands and other items that made Fred wonder what this man could possible use them all for. He thought maybe he should keep an eye on the jovial Mr. Winters in the future, or risk getting tricked by his own merchandise. After he had paid for his purchases (a sum that made Fred's businessman heart flutter with pleasure), he turned to Fred and said in pleasant tones, "Now, my boy, you are obviously clever and inventive, so I don't need to warn you of what might happen should you hurt my niece in any way, do I?"  
  
Despite the fact that Nigel was smiling at him, Fred did not miss the very serious message emanating from the man's eyes. This was not a man to cross.  
  
"No, sir," He answered truthfully. "I'd sooner die than see her hurt."  
  
"Good man!" Nigel slapped Fred companionably on the back, apparently satisfied with his answer. "Ah! Here is the lovely Suzette at last."  
  
The woman in question was standing in the doorway, looking at the samples offered just outside the door. Nigel winked conspiratorially at Fred and led her back to the plate of Canary Creams saying,  
  
"My dear, you must try one of these!"  
  
"Thank you, dearest, but no. I don't trust you." She answered sagely.  
  
"But I had one myself, only minutes ago; they're divine," he coaxed.  
  
Fred composed his face into a look of polite interest, and waited to see if she would fall for it. He made a mental note that Nigel was the type of man to play a practical joke on his wife without turning a hair, and only smiled when she turned Nigel down a second time and came into the shop.  
  
"I just saw a giant Canary out in the street, Nigel, and it reminded me that I wanted to see about a second owl," she said with a wink at Fred. "We simply have too much correspondence for the one to handle."  
  
Fred stepped forward and poured on some charm by pulling a flower from behind Suzette's ear and presenting it to her, saying, "Mrs. Winters, you're looking lovely this afternoon; that shade of blue is particularly becoming on you."  
  
"I can see that you're going to fit in just fine with our family," Suzette said with a cheerful little laugh. "You're as full of nonsense as Nigel is."  
  
They stayed to visit a little longer, and when Fred told the story about Carly and the raining umbrella, Nigel laughed so hard, that Fred was inclined to give him one as a gift. The Winters' left arguing companionably with each other over Nigel's childish behavior, leaving Fred with a grin on his face. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight  
**  
Sunday morning had a definite chill in the air. Carly woke to find her flat was frigid, because she had neglected to light a fire, and had forgotten to renew the charm on the open 'owl' window to keep the chill out and the warm air in. Kyna was sitting on her perch in the late morning sunshine beside another owl, and both had their heads under their wings, and a note still tied to the leg of the unfamiliar bird. She untied the message as carefully as possible, so as not to wake the owl, and read the few words that Fred had scrawled on the parchment: See you in the morning.  
  
Carly re-read the words and felt a jolt of panic. Was she supposed to have met Fred somewhere? The past few days had been so busy at the hospital; she had come home last night and fallen straight into bed with little thought to anything other than a decent night's sleep. Had Fred's owl been sitting there all night? She rushed into her bedroom and dressed quickly, thinking she would hurry to Diagon Ally and apologize for not paying more attention. She quickly plaited her hair and slipped on her shoes before grabbing her purse and bolting out the door.  
  
She was almost past Mrs. Dunmeyer's door when she heard the sound of Fred's laughter coming from inside her nosy neighbor's flat. She approached cautiously and pushed the already partially open door wider. She was amazed to find her normally anti-social, perpetually cranky neighbor laughing like a schoolgirl as Fred related some story for her amusement. They both looked up to see Carly standing in the doorway, with her mouth hanging open in surprise, and smiled cheerfully at her.  
  
"Good Morning, sleepyhead!" Fred greeted her. While his lips were stretched into a smile, the laughter had drained out of them and there was something close to anger in his eyes. Carly's heart thumped painfully hard, them began to gallop. He had been really disappointed... no, that was definitely anger in his eyes...when she hadn't replied to his note.  
  
"Good morning, Fred. Mrs. Dunmeyer," Carly said uncertainly, trying to smile back while feeling vaguely nauseous at the thought of having hurt Fred.  
  
"Call me Eunice, dear," Mrs. Dunmeyer invited, patting her graying hair down from its usual wild mane, and drawing Carly into the room with her other hand. "Let me get you some tea. Your young man has been telling me all about you! Or course I think he might have a slightly biased opinion."  
  
At this point Fred stood and intervened, "Sorry Eunice. Carly and I have some things to discuss, and I'm afraid they can't wait. I hope I'll be seeing you again soon?"  
  
"Of course dear!" The older woman beamed at him. "You stop in any time. I want to see that shop of yours as well!"  
  
"I'll give you a personal tour," Fred promised sweetly, taking her hand and giving it a chivalrous kiss. "Thank you for the tea and lovely conversation."  
  
Carly's mouth was still hanging open when the two of them came to where she was standing, and Mrs. Dunmeyer showed them to the still-open door. Fred Stepped into the hallway, but the old lady pulled Carly aside and whispered, "Don't let this one get away, dear. I don't know when I've met such a charming, good-looking boy. I haven't laughed so hard in years! If I were fifty years younger, I'd have to try for him myself!"  
  
Carly nodded, dumbfounded, at her supposedly crotchety neighbor, and then let Fred take he arm and lead her down the hall toward the stairway that led to down to the street. The smile was gone from his face now, and she waited for the anger to come pouring out over her at any minute. When he said nothing, she screwed up her courage and stopped on the landing and said, "I'm sorry."  
  
"Really," he asked conversationally, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms. "What is it you're sorry for?"  
  
"I didn't see your owl until I woke up this morning. I got home so late, and was so tired that I just...."  
  
"Carly," Fred interrupted, his voice even, the anger still in his eyes. "That's fine. If you didn't get my message, you didn't get it. It's no big deal. I would have caught up with you a little later today."  
  
"But you're angry with me." She frowned in confusion.  
  
"Yep." He then leaned forward and picked up her left hand and played with her fingers for a few moments while he chose his words, "I came here this morning, figuring that I would surprise you, since you hadn't answered my owl. When I came down the hallway, I saw that your door was slightly open, and thought you must have gotten my note after all, and had just opened it because you were expecting me."  
  
Carly gasped.  
  
"My door was open?"  
  
He nodded, forcing his anger, and the huge lump in his throat, down and saying, "I thought.... I don't want to tell you what I thought. I went it with my wand out, expecting...expecting..." He broke off on a shudder. There had been another report in the morning Prophet about the Dark Mark over a wizarding house on the outskirts of London.  
  
"Oh Fred," she whispered, pulling him close, feeling tears gather in her eyes. She remembered the large stack of files she had been juggling in her arms when she had gotten home, and how she had just kicked backward on the door, trusting it to close on it's own from there. Obviously it hadn't.  
  
"I checked your room and found you so sound asleep that you didn't even stir when I sat on the edge of your bed," he told her, tears stinging his own eyes now that he had his arms around her. He squeezed her tighter, quickly blinking them back and said, "That's when I got mad. When I think about what could have happened to you; anyone could have just walked right in, and you wouldn't have known it until it was too late. We're all facing dark times right now, and we can't afford to make mistakes like that. I looked all around your flat, to make sure there was no one hiding anywhere. When I found that nothing appeared to be out of place, I decided that I needed to walk off some of the mad I was feeling before you woke up. Luckily your neighbor Eunice saw me leaving in a temper, and came out to tell me that no one had been near your door all night. She invited me in to wait until you woke, and calmed me down some."  
  
Carly wiped a tear from her cheek and said, "I'm so sorry I frightened you so much. It was stupid, and careless, and I swear I'll make sure the my door is charmed shut every night, whether it's open or closed at the time."  
  
"It's already done," He said firmly. "I charmed it before I left. It will automatically seal itself every time you close it, and it will close itself after five minutes of standing open. It's password protected now, though you'll still need a wand to open it, too."  
  
"So what's the password?" she asked, nodding approvingly at his practicality. It must have taken a lot of time and effort to charm her door for her, and she was grateful.  
  
"Kiss me," He grinned down at her, his anger quickly abating.  
  
She leaned forward and did as he asked, then rested her forehead against his and repeated, "So what's the password?"  
  
"The password is 'Kiss me.' I can change it if you want, but...." He smiled.  
  
"No. That's fine, as I can't imagine saying that particular phrase next to my front door to anyone but you."  
  
"You'd better not be saying that particular phrase to anyone but me anywhere," he advised, kissing the tip of her nose, and leading her down the steps.  
  
"It's a deal," she agreed, relieved that he wasn't angry anymore, and resolving to thank Mrs. Dunmeyer with the biggest box of chocolates she could find in Diagon Alley.  
  
----  
  
Since Carly hadn't eaten since lunchtime the previous day, they went to the Leaky Cauldron for an early lunch. Over their meal, Fred brought up the subject of George's impending return.  
  
"He should be back on Tuesday. I can't wait for you to meet him." Fred grinned.  
  
"Is he really as much like you as your family says?" Carly asked curiously; from everything she had heard, he and George sounded almost inseparable.  
  
"Yeah, pretty much, so I'm lucky that I saw you first. He'll have to find his own girl." Fred grinned. He took a large swig of pumpkin juice before he went on, "I, er, I should tell you something, though."  
  
When she just took another bite of her omelet and looked at him inquiringly, he wiped suddenly sweaty hands on his robes under the table. He was afraid that she might take offense at the idea that he hadn't wanted to tell George about her, and didn't want to hurt her feelings.  
  
"George doesn't know about you," He finally blurted out. "I didn't tell him about you during any of the times I've talked to him since he's been gone."  
  
Carly simply continued eating. Her mind was going over the reasons that he might have kept their growing relationship a secret from his brother, but could only come up with one that really disturbed her. She asked calmly, "Why not? Are you ashamed of me?"  
  
"Great Merlin's ghost, no!" Fred answered immediately.  
  
Since he looked sincerely shocked at the very idea, she put that concern aside and nodded in acceptance. She thought that she knew where Fred was going with this conversation, and knew how he felt. She had spoken to various members of her family many times since she'd arrived in Britain and had not mentioned Fred to any of them, especially to Rowan, whom she was closest to. She knew that she would have to tell them very soon, because Uncle Nigel was sure to mention it when he next talked to her dad.  
  
"Good," she said with a relieved smile.  
  
"It's just that I wanted to keep what we have all to myself for as long as possible. George and I have always shared everything with each other. Neither of us had ever had a serious relationship before, and I don't know how he might react," he explained to her.  
  
"Don't worry, Fred. If he's as much like you as you say he is, we won't be able to help liking each other," She smiled. "What's the worst that could happen?"  
  
They left the pub and made their way back to the shop, where Fred disarmed the door and let them in. Carly had insisted that she wanted to learn how to perform the charm on the rice for the wedding, and so they spread some on the counter and set to work. The charm came easily to Fred out of long practice, but Carly had a bit more trouble with it. Her first few attempts produced a myriad of results, from a tiny explosion to bright flash of blue light. Fred made note of the mispronounced word that had resulted in the blue flash for future reference, and corrected her spell and wand movement. The trick was to charm them so that they would only change into butterflies after the charmed grain had dropped a foot on being released. On the seventh try, she was successful, and laughed with delight as Fred tossed the grain high and they watched it change into a tiny fluttering in the air. They spent a pleasant hour charming the grains of rice and putting them carefully into the jar that held the others that had already been painstakingly done.  
  
When their backs and necks began to get sore from bending over the counter, they decided to take a break and have some tea. Fred went into the small office to fill the teapot, and Carly boosted herself up to sit on the counter and watch the foot traffic pass outside the front windows of the shop.  
  
"Are you always closed on Sundays?" she asked as Fred came around the counter and handed her a sup of tea. "There seems to be a lot of shoppers out there."  
  
Fred glanced out at the passersby before shrugging, "No. It's one of our busier days, actually, but with George and Lee gone, we decided that it would be my day off until they came back. Normally we're open everyday, for at least a few hours. I'll take care of some owl orders later today and check on some potions, but other than that, I have the whole day to spend with you."  
  
"That's good, cause I've missed you these past couple of days. I don't even want to think about the stack of files I'm supposed to review before I go back to the Hospital tomorrow. Thankfully I have Thursday and Friday off next week," She said, setting her cup aside in favor of wrapping her arms around Fred's neck.  
  
"I'll have to see about getting those days off myself."  
  
He leaned in for a kiss. When their lips met, he could have sworn he heard bells ringing, and was surprised when he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder and pull him around, away from Carly. He had only a second to register the fact that George was standing in front of him, looking livid, before he felt his brother's fist connect with his nose.  
  
"Bloody hell!" Fred roared, as he stumbled backward into Carly's dangling legs and then fell to the floor. He put his hand to his face as the blood began to pour from his nose and just knew that it was broken. Carly's scream was still ringing in his ears as George grabbed the front of his robes and made as if to punch him again.  
  
Fred didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't going to sit on the floor and let himself get pummeled. He had left his wand on the counter when he had set the teapot down, and so he used his feet to push his enraged brother far enough away from him to allow him to gain his feet. George was already coming back at him, breathing hard, with a murderous expression, and Fred prepared to do whatever he had to do to fend him off. The pain in his hand traveled all the way up his arm as his fist connected with George's nose. He felt both faintly sick and satisfied at the same time when he felt a crunch and saw his twin's nose also begin to bleed. Swearing steadily inside his head, he cradled his hand against his chest and waited to see what would happen next. George looked slightly stunned, but no less angry as he got to his feet.  
  
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Each yelled the outraged question at the other simultaneously.  
  
All three of them looked up when the bells over the door of the shop rang, and a young woman came backing in, pulling a floating trunk. She had long red hair, and called over her shoulder,  
  
"Geez, George, I know you're anxious to see Fred, but you could have at least waited until.... What on earth?" The woman had turned around to survey the two brothers covered in blood, and another woman kneeling on a counter holding a wand out as if she had just finished thoroughly cursing the pair.  
  
"Expelliarmus!" she cried, pointing her wand at the other woman, and neatly catching the wand that flew her way, "Carly, what...."  
  
But Carly had jumped down from the counter and past the fighting brothers, flying at the newcomer, and shouting, "Rowan!"  
  
The two women embraced joyfully, leaving Fred and George to look at them in amazement.  
  
"Wait a minute!" Fred and Rowan said in tandem.  
  
At the same time, George and Carly said, "You're a twin?"  
  
"I told you I was a twin." George said to Rowan, whom he recognized now was wearing plum colored robes, and not the dark green of her sister's. If he hadn't had a red haze over his vision at seeing a woman he thought to be Rowan kissing his brother, he would have seen that it hadn't been Rowan at all. Now that he stopped to consider it, it was foolish of him to not to have realized that Rowan couldn't have arrived at the shop ahead of him. He wiped ineffectually at his nose with the sleeve of his robes, and flinched in pain. From the look of Fred, he knew that he two would be sporting two black eyes and that Fred was probably suffering from the mother of all headaches. Rowan was looking at him with faint amusement in her eyes.  
  
"No you didn't," She said. She shook her head in denial, with an arm around her sister.  
  
"You didn't tell me," He accused in confusion.  
  
"How could you have missed it? There are pictures of us all over my parents' house! I talked about her incessantly!" Rowan said with an exasperated laugh.  
  
"Why would I have been looking at pictures when I had you to look at?" George asked with what he thought was perfect logic.  
  
Rowan merely shook her head and rolled her eyes, and then turned to Fred, "You must be Fred."  
  
He nodded, still trying to comprehend everything that had happened in the last few minutes, in spite of his throbbing face. He turned and said to Carly (somewhat stupidly), "I didn't know you were a twin."  
  
"I could swear I told you." She shrugged, grinning at her sister, then back at him, "You didn't tell me you were."  
  
"Hey," George said, turning to his brother. "Sorry about punching you."  
  
Fred looked at his brother and knew that he looked just as bad, if not worse, and nodded in acceptance of the apology. He considered punching him one more time, just to make himself feel better, but decided it might not look good in front of Carly. She was, after all, an apprentice healer, and generally frowned on such things. He would pay him back later by dissolving a Puking Pastille into his tea and making him believe he had the flu.  
  
"You punched him?" Rowan asked George sternly, causing him to look at his feet in embarrassment, and then she started to laugh. "I walked in here and saw you two all bloodied up, and Carly with her wand out..."  
  
She laughed even harder as Carly glared at her, took her wand back, and finally stepped forward to help Fred stop the bleeding in his nose. "I'll need to make you a potion for the bruising. I'll see what ingredients you have here, and if I need to, I can go get some at my flat...." Carly told him as she went about her work.  
  
"Hey! What about me?" George asked indignantly as Carly stopped Fred's bleeding, and used a spell to clean up his face.  
  
Carly moved her wand delicately around Fred's aching hand. "What about you?" she asked him archly. "You're the one who came in here and started throwing punches. Serve you right to make you suffer through it."  
  
"I thought he was kissing the woman I love!" George shouted crossly, and then froze in shock.  
  
Everyone stared at George, who looked as stunned as they were at the words that had just come out of his mouth. Carly was the first to recover; she saw the blissful look that came into her sister's eyes and her heart melted. She walked briskly over to George and used her wand to stop the bleeding and clean him up.  
  
"You do?" Rowan asked shakily, taking a hesitant step forward.  
  
George could feel the heat creeping up to flood his cheeks, but gave a firm nod and asked, "Do you?"  
  
She was in his arms in an instant, laughing and crying at the same time. "Of course I do, you idiot! Do you think I would have quit my job with no notice and followed you all the way to England if I didn't love you?"  
  
Carly blushed as the two kissed each other enthusiastically, and went to stand over next to Fred, who whispered, "And I thought things were moving quickly between us! I don't think I need to worry about how he'll react to out relationship."  
  
This struck Carly as incredibly funny, and she began to laugh until Fred told her quietly, "I feel the same about you, you know. I have done since the first time I saw you."  
  
"I know it's crazy," Carly agreed. "But I fell in love with you while my ears were still ringing from the Shrieking Snaps you used to save me from that man outside this shop."  
  
Lee Jordan walked in a minute later and thought that he was seeing double for a moment when he found two sets of identical twins snogging in the middle of the shop. He didn't have to ask if George had introduced Rowan to his brother yet. There was definitely never a dull moment when the Weasleys were around; he couldn't wait to hear the story behind this turn of events. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Two weeks later, Carly sat at her little desk in her cramped cubicle at the hospital, filling out paperwork and patient charts. Her 36-hour shift was almost over, and then she would have three whole days off to do what ever she pleased. She was hoping some of that time would involve some much- needed sleep, plus she wanted to eke out some time alone with Fred. He had been busy with his brother, shut up in the basement of their building, developing some new products from ideas George had brought back from the states. Rowan had inserted herself easily into Carly's flat, and was seldom home. She spent most of her time between her new job and George, both of which she seemed to love more every day. Things had begun to settle into a nice rhythm that seemed to suit all of them fairly well.  
  
As if the thought had conjured her up, Rowan popped her head over the wall of Carly's cubicle and said, "Boo!"  
  
"Boo, yourself," Carly smiled, finishing her last chart and dropping her quill. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Just coming in to tell you that I'm not going to be home for a day or so," Rowan said lightly, picking up the crystal orb that Carly used as a paperweight.  
  
"Where are you going to be?"  
  
"I want to check out a rumor I happened to overhear at work." Rowan didn't meet her sister's eyes as she spoke; a sure sign that she was hiding something.  
  
"And?"  
  
"And," she answered in one big rush, "_I'llbestakingouttheMalfoymansioninWiltshire_."  
  
"Staking out the Malfoy mansion in Wiltshire. Rowan," Carly knew that it was useless to try to change her sister's mind once she'd set it on a goal. "Lucius Malfoy was an influential man, and a dangerous one. You can't assume that he is any less treacherous while he's in prison. People like him have servants and flunkies to do his bidding, and they won't think twice about dealing with you if you get caught."  
  
"I know all of this," came the quick reply, "and I promise I'll be careful."  
  
"Are you going alone?" Carly raised an eyebrow at her sister's lack of eye contact.  
  
"Well when I talked to George about it, he kind of insisted on accompanying me," Rowan admitted with a bit of a triumphant gleam in her eye. Her life was developing very nicely in that department, if she did say so herself. George needn't know that she had been planning to move to London, anyway, to be near her sister. It was a nice kiss to his ego to let him believe he was the only reason she was here now, though he was the biggest.  
  
"Just be careful," Carly said. She felt a bit better knowing that George would be tagging along. Not that he would keep her out of trouble; they seemed to thrive on playing practical jokes on each other. Still, another pair of eyes to look out for her sister wasn't a bad thing.  
  
"Always." With a cheeky grin, her sister was off on another adventure.  
  
No sooner had she fastened her cloak, than Fred strolled up to her desk, looking pleased with the world in general. He'd developed a habit of appearing at the end of her shifts to see her safely home. He produced a rose from thin air, offered it to her, and then took her bag from her hand and carried it for her as he led her down the now familiar corridor.  
  
"I have the pleasure of announcing," he said as they walked, "that George has accompanied Rowan out on an assignment that will take them both out of town for a couple of days."  
  
"I know," she grinned at the broad smile on his face. "Rowan was just here, filling me in."  
  
"Did she also tell you that Lee is going to watch the store tomorrow? Leaving me with a free day on my hands?" he asked, holding a door open for her.  
  
"She didn't mention it," Carly said, playing along. "What ever will you do will all of that extra time?"  
  
"How does an autumn picnic sound? It's supposed to be fine tomorrow, and I just happen to know a great spot, where you can fly a broomstick without any fear of being seen by muggles, and stretch out on a blanket and relax."  
  
"It sounds like heaven," she sighed, thinking of their last picnic. She took his hand as they walked the short distance to her building, her fatigue momentarily forgotten.  
  
They climbed the stairs to her floor, and were just about to pause to say hello to Eunice (another habit they had gotten into), when the elderly witch swung her door wide and pulled them inside. Her hair was in its usual wild disarray, her eyes were fearful, and her hands shaking slightly.  
  
"Oh my dears! I was just about to call the MLE! There was a woman outside of Carly's apartment, trying to get in!"  
  
"When, Eunice?" Fred asked sharply, gripping her hands.  
  
"Just moments ago! I'm surprised you didn't pass her on the stairs!"  
  
Fred simply said, "Stay with Eunice, I'll check it out." He was gone before either woman could protest, with his wand out and a set expression.  
  
"We didn't pass anyone at all," Carly said, taking the hands that Fred had just released, "Why don't you tell me exactly what happened?"  
  
"Well I was just sitting down for a cup of tea, and I heard someone pass by in the corridor. I thought it might be Fred or George calling on one of you girls, so I got up to have a look. I looked out and saw a woman standing outside your door. I couldn't see her face, because her hood was up, but she was wearing glittery high-heeled shoes. She knocked first, and I was about to step out to tell her that you weren't home, when she pulled out a wand and tried to get the door open, so I stayed back; I didn't want her to see me. I could hear her trying different spells and passwords, but she didn't have any luck."  
  
Mrs. Dunmeyer was getting more agitated, and Carly's instinct to comfort kicked in. She guided her neighbor to the sofa and sat next to her, urging her to finish her account. Before she had the chance to tell anymore, however, Fred returned, and said,  
  
"I didn't see anyone. I checked up the stairs and down."  
  
He sat down on Eunice's other side and asked her to repeat everything she had heard and seen for him. She told them that the would-be intruder had continued to try to guess the password or to circumvent it with various spell, but none had worked. Finally, there was a noise from the stairwell, and the 'visitor' had turned abruptly and fled.  
  
"And then the two of you came up the stairs, and well, you know the rest."  
  
"Thank you for keeping an eye out for us," Carly said. She flicked her wand to re-warm the tea that had been abandoned earlier, and handed Eunice the cup. "We appreciate it."  
  
"Do you think we should contact the MLE?" The other woman asked anxiously, the teacup rattling softly against the saucer.  
  
"No, there really isn't anything that they can do at this point," Fred concluded. "But I want you both to be more careful in future. No unnecessary risks, and if you see or suspect anything..."  
  
Both women nodded in understanding.  
  
Carly made sure that her neighbor was calm and settled before she and Fred left her to go back to Carly's flat. She uttered the password and used the correct charms to open the door, and was relieved to see everything was the way she had left it. Rowan was quite a bit less tidy that her sister, and Carly was too comfortable with her twin's clutter to be embarrassed by it. She unceremoniously swept up all of the papers that had been left scattered over the sofa and dumped them onto the desk in the corner, and then dropped onto it with a heavy sigh. Fred sank into the cushions next to her and pulled her close so that they could just enjoy the peace for a moment, and Carly felt herself begin to drift off as he ran a hand soothingly over her hair. Her exhaustion had finally caught up with her, and her brain was shutting down for a rest.  
  
When she woke, it was to find her head resting one of the couch's many pillows, and a blanket draped over her. Fred was watching her intently from the chair next to the sofa with heavy lidded eyes. It had only been early afternoon when she had left the hospital, and now the sky was rapidly darkening into dusk. She smiled sleepily at him and asked how long she had been out.  
  
"About three hours," He smiled lazily at her. "I dozed off myself right after you did; we must have really needed a nap."  
  
"I guess so. Sorry about just dropping off on you like that," She yawned, sitting up. "The least I can do now is fix you some dinner."  
  
"I'll help."  
  
They wandered into the kitchen and scavenged out the makings of a simple meal, working together companionably in the small space. It wasn't until they sat down with hot soup and sandwiches that Carly noticed that Kyna was not on her perch, and that it was just a little early for her to have gone out hunting.  
  
"I hope you don't mind," Fred said, as he noted the direction of her gaze. "I sent Kyna on a little errand for me. I needed to send a note to my father."  
  
"It's no problem. Was it about what happened here today?" Carly asked, furrowing her brow at the thought.  
  
"Yes. He's only in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office (for now), but he does have friends with the MLE that he can talk to," Fred explained. "It concerns me that each of us had had an attempted break-in in the past month. They might not be related at all, but it's a heck of a coincidence if they aren't."  
  
"I agree," Carly frowned. "I just can't think of why anyone would want to break in here. Or the shop for that matter."  
  
"That's why I wanted to owl my father," Fred said, not mentioning that the owl would be traveling to the secret headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. "To get his opinion. There is definitely something strange going on around here, and I would like to know what it is."  
  
"Maybe we ought to make up a list or a chart or something," Carly suggested. "Make a timeline of all of the weird stuff that has happened in that few months...say since Percy left home, and see if we can spot a pattern."  
  
"Actually, my father already thought of that, and said he would work on it for me," Fred said. "He works at the Ministry, so it's likely that he might hear of anything else odd going on with Percy, and be able to get a clearer picture. But there was a woman here today... I wonder how that fits into all of this."  
  
Unbeknownst to Carly, Fred had visited Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, quite a few times since George had returned home. He had helped add some information to the large chart that Dumbledore had already started over the summer, documenting Dark Arts activity all over Britain, though it had pained him to see Percy's name added to the list of questionable suspects.  
  
According to various members of the Order, Percy had been acting very strangely, and had even been caught rummaging through sealed records at the ministry recently. H had avoided trouble by claiming ignorance to the security level of the files, saying that they had been put in the wrong place, and that he had been trying to ascertain where they really belonged. Finally it had been the Auror and Order member, Kingsley Shacklebolt who had snuck a Revealing Potion into Percy's tea while in a meeting with the Minister of Magic. If Percy was being impersonated by means of magic, the potion should have ended the masquerade by changing whoever the imposter was back to their normal state. If Percy weren't being impersonated, then the potion would be harmless and do nothing. Sadly, it seemed that either the potion had failed, or Percy wasn't being impersonated.  
  
"I wish I knew. It makes me nervous to know that Rowan and George are out there right now, camping out near the home of a known Death Eater. Even if Lucius Malfoy is still in prison," Carly said.  
  
"They can handle themselves. You said yourself that Rowan was the best in your school at Defense Against the Dark Arts, and George is no slouch, either," Fred assured her, standing to clear the dishes. "Let's go do something fun."  
  
They dealt with the dishes quickly, donned their cloaks and spent the remainder of the evening on the roof of Carly's building, watching the oblivious muggle world on the streets below. Carly told Fred about an adventure that she and Rowan had once had at a "cinema" when they had found some muggle money on the street once, and how the huge picture on the screen had mesmerized them as they watched battles being fought in outer space. Their parents had grounded them when they had been found out, but it hadn't stopped them from sneaking out to see it again a week later. She pointed to a building just down the road, and told Fred that people lined up nightly at that cinema, and how she wondered if the "film" was the same here in England as it had been in America. At the wistful note in her voice, Fred wondered if he should get some money changed at Gringotts and risk an excursion into the muggle world to indulge her.  
  
"Didn't you and George ever venture out into the muggle world to check things out?" Carly asked, feeling truly relaxed for the first time that day.  
  
"Once or twice," Fred smiled. "But we gave up on it. We went to see what kind of products the muggle joke shops carried. It was pretty pathetic." He shook his head in amusement at the memory, "I don't know when I've laughed so hard. The things they were selling as magic tricks..."  
  
Carly chuckled. She had taken muggle studies, and had enough experience in the muggle world to have an idea of what had been offered in such a place. He had the feeling that any muggle who wandered into Weasley's Wizard Wheezes would feel as bewildered there as Fred had in a muggle shop. With a jaw-cracking yawn, Carly turned to snuggle into Fred's warmth and felt her eyes getting heavy again. The three hours sleep she had gotten earlier had not been nearly enough to make up for the thirty-six she had gone without. Feeling Fred's arms come about her, she wished they could just stay like this for the next year or so. "We'd better get you inside," he said gently, turning her so they could walk to the building's entrance. "You're asleep on your feet, and I don't want you falling off your broomstick tomorrow."  
  
"You still want to go on the picnic?" she asked sleepily, descending the stairs to the fourth floor, and turning into her corridor.  
  
"Sure, why not?" he shrugged, "It's better than sitting around here, worrying."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

After Fred had seen Carly safely into her apartment, and made an excuse for not just staying the night, he checked on Mrs. Dunmeyer. The elderly lady confided in him that she never slept (the result of a spell gone wrong in her youth) and that she would keep an eye on Carly's place during the night. He left the building, feeling better, and found a quiet spot from which to apparate to Order of the Phoenix Headquarters at number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He let himself into the dark entryway and quietly made his way past the sleeping portraits to the basement kitchen where any members in residence were likely to be gathered. The lamps around the room were all lit, and there was a tantalizing aroma of freshly baked bread in the air.  
  
Remus Lupin was sitting at the table with the remnants of him meal in front of him, studying the roll of parchment open next to his plate. Fred recognized it as the letter he had sent earlier that evening. The older man looked up from the parchment and smiled faintly at Fred; he was looking unwell, and Fred realized that it had not been more than a day or two since the full moon. The past few months had etched a few more lines into the man's care-worn face and added a few more gray hairs to his head. The loss of Sirius had deflated his usually calm demeanor for a while, and after seeing Harry off to Privet Drive at the end of the last school year, he had disappeared to lick his wounds in private. Fred had been glad when he had returned, seeming much like his old self, and showing no outward signs of serious emotional turmoil. Lupin had never discusses where he had gone or what he had done during that time, but it seemed to have done him some good.  
  
Arthur Weasley was sitting opposite Lupin, a bottle of Butterbeer in hand, talking quietly with Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was seated next to Lupin. Both men wore serious expressions and leaned slightly toward each other over the table, as though they were trying to keep from being overheard. They made a striking contrast to each other, Fred noticed, seeing them there together. Shacklebolt, with his broad shoulders and large frame; his dark skin and shiny pate looked more intimidating than usual across from the slighter stature of Arthur Weasley, who looked every inch of what he was on the surface; a mild-mannered bureaucrat with red, thinning hair, and pale, freckled skin that didn't see enough sun. It struck Fred as funny that both men were equally dangerous in their own way. He hadn't realized how formidable his own father could be until he had become involved in the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
"It's just lucky for everyone that Harry realized that it had been tampered with before serious damage was done..." Arthur broke off when Kingsley interrupted.  
  
"Fred. Arthur was just telling us about a strange woman trying to get into your girlfriend's apartment tonight."  
  
Fred nodded, not to be distracted by what he had just overheard his father saying, "What happened with Harry?"  
  
Well, it seems we might have an answer for why someone tried to break into your shop," Arthur said, taking off his glasses and polishing the lenses on his robes (a sure sign that he need a moment to think). "Or we thought we did. This new development at the girls' apartment, though..."  
  
Fred folded his arms across his chest. He hadn't missed that his father had said someone instead of Percy, but he let that slide for now. He had learned that his father chose his words very carefully and deliberately, so there was more than a simple omission of a name going on in his mind.  
  
"What has that got to do with Harry?" Fred asked, not willing to be sidetracked from his original question.  
  
Kingsley answered this time. "Harry received a parcel this morning. It was packaged to look as though it had come from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but Harry became suspicious at took it to McGonagall."  
  
"George and I haven't sent anything to Harry for at least a week." Fred confirmed, "What was in the parcel?"  
  
"Well Harry took it straight to Professor McGonagall," Lupin picked up the story from there. "And told her that it looked like it was from you boys, but that it was missing the seal you normally use when you send him anything."  
  
Fred nodded, coming to lean against the table next to his father, and said, "Yeah. Harry, Ron and Hermione all know not to open anything from the shop unless it has our seal on it... we only use that seal for them in particular, and I don't think anyone else knows about it."  
  
"You suspected something like this might happen?" Kingsley asked with an arched eyebrow, sounding impressed.  
  
"Well, the most evil wizard in the world is out to get Harry, it seemed like common sense to us," Fred said with a shrug. "We've told you all that George and I aren't completely irresponsible." It still rankled that they had been denied full membership into the Order so far.  
  
"Let's not get into that right now," Arthur sighed. The boys had been persistently asking to join the order for months, and it was really only Molly's insistence that she wouldn't be able to handle it that kept them officially out.  
  
"Anyway," Lupin cut in smoothly, always the peacemaker, "McGonagall took the parcel to Dumbledore, who put a Screen charm around it and then opened it from across the room. As soon as it was opened, a liquid came spraying out of it everywhere, in a fine mist. If the Screen charm hadn't been in place, anyone standing within three feet would have breathed it in. Luckily the charm also caused the mist to run off and pool around the boundaries of the screen, or it would have evaporated without a trace. They called Severus, who took a sample and determined that it was a Befuddlement Draught."  
  
"Someone sent Harry an airborne potion," Fred asked incredulously, "disguised as a parcel from me and George?"  
  
"Yes." Lupin affirmed, ignoring a succinct swear from Fred. "We think that whomever tried to break into your shop last month was trying to get access to your packaging, and possibly your owls."  
  
"It's possible, too, that someone found out about the seal you've been using and was after that as well." Arthur added.  
  
"Why would anyone want Harry to take a Befuddlement Draught?" Fred asked thoughtfully, more to himself than the others.  
  
"Dumbledore has a theory," Arthur said, giving more information than he might have if Molly were present. "It's quite brilliant, really, because Harry wouldn't have noticed the effects of it tight away, and might never connect the package with his enhanced emotions. Dumbledore thinks it was an attempt to make Harry fail at his Occlumency. He has been doing quite well with it since returning to school, and You-Know-Who could use it to his advantage is he could get inside Harry's head. A Befuddlement Draught could very well have disrupted the concentration necessary for successful Occlumency practice."  
  
"Damn," Fred muttered. "At least Harry was paying attention when we warned him about not opening anything without out the seal. What I'd really like to know is why Percy would be involved."  
  
"We're not sure he was," Kingsley answered. "Mrs. Grist may have thought she saw Percy, but the fact remains that he never showed any signs of being affected by your security system, and he came up clean with the revealing potion I slipped into his tea."  
  
"He may be up to something, but we're not sure it has anything to do with Voldemort," Lupin said, sighing lightly when everyone flinched at the sound of the name. "He may simply be trying to find a way to save Fudge from what seems to be his imminent removal from office; that would explain his getting caught with classified files."  
  
"Something's not right," Fred insisted, shaking his head for emphasis. "If you all are holding back any information just because I'm not a full member of the Order, I want to know what it is."  
  
"That's not it, Fred," his father said. "We simply don't have anymore information to give you. Dumbledore told me to ask you to keep your eyes open for any other odd occurrences, and to report to the Order immediately if you notice anything. We've just sent word, as a matter of fact, of this new development with Carly, though I don't know if he can offer any insight into the matter."  
  
Fred stared at his father inscrutably for a long time before nodding in resignation. He nodded to Lupin and Shacklebolt, and then clapped his father on the shoulder before turning to exit the kitchen. Arthur followed him down the corridor to the front door to have a private word with is son.  
  
"Fred," he began, "I know that you and George are eager to join the Order, but you know your mother won't hear of it."  
  
"It's not about the Order, now, Dad." Fred looked grim. "I won't give up trying to convince you all that we should be allowed in, but now I have Carly to think about. I love her, and I have to ask myself if I'm putting her in danger by being with her. My brother is acting strangely enough to be put on a list of the Order's suspects, the shop's had an attempted break- in, and now Carly's place..."  
  
"I didn't realize that your feelings for her were that strong, son, but I have to say that I don't think she'd be in any less danger if you were to quit seeing her. We're approaching some very dark times, and I don't think anyone is safe anymore. She was attacked right outside your shop, and her flat was almost broken into; I don't see how those incidents could have anything to do with your relationship with her. In fact, I think she's safest when she is with you. If it hadn't been for the charms you'd put on her door, who knows what might have happened?" Arthur offered his opinion and advice, while marveling that his children weren't children anymore. When had that happened?  
  
Fred felt a bit of the weight on his shoulders ease, and he let out a breath he hadn't been aware he's been holding while his father had been speaking. "Thank heaven, because I don't know if I could give her up now. Give my love to mum." He turned and went out the front door, and walked to a nearby alley to apparate home.  
  
Fred slept fitfully; plagued by violent nightmares that he didn't quite remember when he woke, but left him with a vague feeling of trepidation. He rose before the sun knowing that he would not be able to sleep anymore, and showered to wash away the sweat that was rapidly drying on his skin and giving him a chill. The sky was barely tinged with a pale glow as he sat down at his desk and took out a fresh sheet of parchment and quill. Dear Harry, he began to write, thinking he would ask Harry for his thoughts and suspicions on the matter of the package. The more he thought about what to say, though, the more uncertain he was that it was a good idea to send anything that might give the enemy information. Hadn't Umbridge intercepted Harry's owl last year before she dropped all pretenses and just openly rummaged through all of the students' mail? He dipped his quill in the purple ink that he and Fred were partial to, and wrote; Great catch yesterday. I heard all about it, and am glad you have such a sharp eye. You'll have to write to me soon with all the details. There. That didn't sound too suspicious; anyone who read that much would think he was referring to a Quidditch match. George and I will be sending you a package soon in the usual way; so if you, Ron or Ginny need anything from the shop, send an owl to let us know. Won't say more here, but if you send the date of the next Hogsmeade weekend, we might be able to come and see you all. George says hello. Take care and write soon, your friend, Fred. PS- Is Ron's hair still blue? I can't recall if I sent the antidote for that.  
  
Fred carefully folded the letter and put it into a WWW envelope with the special seal, then sent it off into the strengthening dawn with one of the express owls in the shop. Lee wouldn't be in to open the shop for hours, and so Fred went to check on some of the experimental potions he and George had brewing in the basement, and made sure that there was ample money in the coffer to make change for the day's customers. He had still not been able to shake the feeling of uneasiness that he had woken with, and didn't know what to do about it. He was just heading back up the stairs to his rooms, when he heard Carly's voice calling out from above.  
  
"Fred? Fred, are you there?"  
  
Fred hurried up the stairs, and found Carly's head in the fire. Her hair was mess, and it was obvious that she had been asleep very recently. He kneeled down so that his face was level with hers and could see the beginnings of panic in her eyes. "What's wrong?"  
  
"It's Rowan. Something bad had happened to her," She said without preamble.  
  
"What happened?" Fred asked sharply, "Where is she? Where's George?"  
  
"I don't know. I just woke up out of a dead sleep, and I knew something was wrong." She said, tears welling up in her eyes.  
  
Fred didn't stop to ask more, or question how she knew any of this. "I'll be there in less than ten minutes. If something happens before then, go to Eunice, she never sleeps."  
  
She nodded, blinking back her tears, and then withdrew her head from the fire. Fred immediately grabbed a pinch of Floo powder from the bowl near the grate and threw it in.  
  
"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place," he called into the flames, and then held his breath for a moment while he stuck his head in. He prayed that there would be a member of the Order handy. Looking around the kitchen, he spotted someone with his head resting on the table, hand curled around a thick, steaming mug. He couldn't tell who it was in the darkened kitchen from his vantage point, so he simply yelled out, "Hey!"  
  
A red head jerked up from the tabletop and stared blearily at the fire. Bill took a moment to focus and register that his brother's head was in the fire, "George."  
  
"It's Fred," he said impatiently, "I need help."  
  
Something in Fred's tone caught Bill's attention, and he squatted down in front of the fire, "What's up?"  
  
"Carly just contacted me and said that Rowan was in trouble. She didn't know how or why, but she said it woke her from a dead sleep, and she's scared. George and Rowan are out somewhere working on a story for her paper."  
  
"Where?" Bill asked, not bothering to question the validity of Fred's story. If Fred was concerned enough to contact the order, it was important.  
  
"The Malfoy mansion in Wiltshire," Fred sighed. "But they weren't supposed to get close. George took Ron's Omnioculars with him so that they could keep their distance. They were supposed to be camping about a quarter of a mile east of the estate."  
  
"When's the last time you talked to George?" Bill asked. His mouth set in a stern line, and Fred knew that his brother was taking this seriously.  
  
"Yesterday morning," Fred answered. "When they left. They aren't due back until this evening at the earliest, but I don't like it. Carly's not the hysterical type; she might have some sort of connection with Rowan that I don't know about."  
  
"I'll call out some of the other members of the Order and we'll check it out. Where are you going to be?" Bill promised with a nod.  
  
"I'll be at Carly's. It's the block of flats on Sutton Place, by St. Mungo's fourth floor, flat number 426."  
  
"Right. I'll let you know as soon as we find out anything," Bill said briskly then turned and left the kitchen.  
  
Fred pulled his head from the fire and dusted the ashes out of his hair as he stood up. He grabbed his cloak, and took a look around for anything he might have forgotten. His eyes alighted on the picnic hamper he had yet to fill, and turned away; there wouldn't be picnic today, her feared. He hoped that was the worst thing that would happen today as he left for Carly's flat.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"George!" Rowan hissed, and prodded at his prone figure, asleep under his cloak. "George wake up! There's something happening."  
  
George opened his eyes and saw Rowan's face hovering above him; the rest of her was covered in a dark hooded cloak. She wore an excited look on her face, and he finally registered what she had just said. He sat up and let her help him to his feet, then fastened his cloak around his shoulders to ward off the frigid pre-dawn air.  
  
They had been watching the house for any activity since lunchtime the previous day, but had not seen much of anything up until now. Rowan had coaxed Fred into casting a Disillusionment charm on her when they had first arrived, and she had discovered that there were wards and charms cast around all of the windows, to discourage any 'visitors' from getting too close. They had intended to camp away from the house, but had been unable to find a suitable observation point with adequate cover for them, and so they had moved closer. Too close, in George's opinion, but as he hadn't had any better solution, they found a spot that was well covered by a thicket of trees and shrubs on the eastern border of the property.  
  
There was definite movement at the house now; someone had appeared at the southern border of the property, and was now walking briskly toward the front of the house. George pulled out the Omnioculars he had 'borrowed' from Ron's trunk before the school term and held them to his eyes for a better look. It looked as if there were two figures walking together, their faces obscured in shadow, but unquestionably the forms of a man and woman. Rowan was rummaging in her pockets for the extra-long Extendable Ears they had brought, and produced one for each of them. George took the flesh-colored string from her and handed without taking his eyes from the figures. After a moment the front door of the house opened, and he could easily see the form of Narcissa Malfoy framed in the doorway, and the two figures approaching her were washed in the light spilling from the open door. Fred swore so badly and loudly, that Rowan gave a start and hissed at him to quiet down, then had to grab him and clamp a hand over his mouth to keep him from jumping out from their cover and running toward the new arrivals.  
  
"George, don't be stupid! Are you trying to get us killed?" she hissed at him, pulling her wand in case he tried to make a break for it. She didn't want to have to hex him, but if he didn't give her any choice, she'd put him in a Full Body Bind.  
  
"It's Percy," he hissed back at her, breathing hard, but staying hidden. "And he's with Bellatrix LaStrange."  
  
Rowan grabbed the Omnioculars from George and put them to her own eyes. She saw that the man of the group was tall and lanky, and did indeed have red hair, though she couldn't see enough of his face to make a positive identification from the pictures she'd seen of George's older brother. She could always use the Omnioculars' play back feature later to confirm what George had seen. The two women were a perfect foil for one another; one was tall and dark haired with angular, sunken features, and the other was a pale blonde, with an icy, haughty look to her. All three people in the doorway were dressed in Death Eater's robes, though no masks covered their faces, and their hoods were down. Rowan and George inserted the ends of the Extendable Ears into their own ears, and watched as the other ends snaked their way toward the house. At first all they heard was a rustling as the fleshy string slithered its way through the grass, but then they began to hear the voices of those who were standing in the doorway.  
  
"...should be here any moment," Bellatrix was saying.  
  
"We can wait for them in the sitting room; Pettigrew has been here since yesterday morning, working on the map." Narcissa said, standing aside to admit them into the foyer of the large house.  
  
Something about that statement set off a vague alarm in George's head, but at that moment, Rowan gave her Extendable Ear a sharp tug and brought it back to her with a sound of disgust and frustration. The Extendable Ears could not follow them inside, and the wards and charms on the windows would not allow the ears to get near. She had settled herself down on the ground, her back propped on a thick tree trunk while she rummaged through her satchel. She produced a book, and began to mumble to herself as she riffled through its pages, apparently looking for counter-spells that would allow them to get close enough to eavesdrop.  
  
George did not pull his Ear back, since Bellatrix had mentioned more arrivals; he didn't want to miss a word of any conversations to come. He considered going to get some sort of authority figures, they were spying on an apparent meeting of Death Eaters that included at least one escaped convict, but he abandoned the idea because he knew that Rowan would never agree to leave at this point. George admitted to himself that he did not want to leave, either, because Percy was in that house, and if he called in the Order or Aurors, Percy would surely be sent to prison. He wasn't sure he was ready to put his mother through that kind of anguish. He cursed silently to himself at the situation he found himself in, and was only brought out of his black mood by the arrival of more figures at the property line, at the same spot as before. He signaled to Rowan, who jumped up and pulled out the flesh colored string and snapped it out to travel toward the front door.  
  
Rowan quickly put the Omnioculars to her eyes and whispered, "Right. Looks like we've got four figures, all men." The sky was beginning to pale toward dawn, and made the features on this group more easily distinguishable. "I don't recognize any of them."  
  
George took the Omnioculars from her and had a look for himself. "I'm not sure, either," he said. The door of the house opened once more to admit the new comers, and he suspected that the front of the house was being watched, or that there was a charm in place that would alert them to new arrivals. Bellatrix was the one to meet the newest arrivals this time, and she spoke harshly to them.  
  
"You imbeciles are late! Hurry up and get into the dining room. The map is almost finished, and it's going to need some complicated spell work if it's to be of any value to the Dark Lord."  
  
"Was Weasley able to provide any of the missing details?' one of the men asked as he stepped inside.  
  
"Not as many as...." Bellatrix began to answer, but turned and shut the door before George and Rowan could hear more.  
  
"Damn it!" George murmured angrily. It was looking more and more like Percy was willingly aiding the Death Eaters.  
  
He was working hard to master his emotions, when all he wanted to do was storm into the house in front of him and drag his brother out of there while hexing everyone in sight. Rowan on the other hand, had gone momentarily back to her book, then shut it with a snap, and pulled out her wand. Pointing her wand at the nearest window on the eastern side of the house, she tried a spell.  
  
"Finite imperturbatus!"  
  
There was a faint bluish glow for a moment around the window frame, and then everything seemed to be the way it had been before.  
  
"Did it work?" George asked, tugging his Extendable Ear back and pocketing it.  
  
"One way to find out." She said, tugging her own Ear back and snapping back out in the direction of the window. After a moment of concentration, she shook her head, and went back to her book, looking for what other spells might have been used on the place.  
  
She tried twice more, and each time the faint glow appeared around the pane, then faded. On the third try, Rowan gave George a thumbs up sign, and he sent an Ear toward the window. There was a heated argument going on within, over the map that had been mentioned before, and he distinctly heard his brother's voice in the mix.  
  
"You've got that part wrong." Percy's condescending manner hadn't changed much since he had left his family, "That corridor is on the fourth floor, and leads to a stairwell that comes out near greenhouse number three."  
  
Alarm bells were definitely ringing in George's mind now, and he turned to Rowan and demanded, "Do a Disillusionment charm on me, quick!"  
  
The urgency in George's voice made Rowan pause in her observations, and pulled out her wand. She wasn't sure what was causing him so much distress, but she didn't want him to risk getting caught by charging ahead without cover. She tapped his head sharply with her want while muttering, "Occaeco Praestigiae!" She knew by his quick shiver that he was experiencing the chill of the spell spreading over him from the point where her wand had touched.  
  
"Remember, you aren't invisible," she admonished, and bit her lip as she watched the ripple of movement that he made as he approached the window. Because her Extendable Ear was still in place, she would be able to hear him once he got close to the house. She prayed that he would remain as still as possible once he got there, so that he would blend in with his surroundings without giving away his position.  
  
George kept himself bent double, making as small an object of his body as possible as he hurried toward the window at which they'd been listening. If the Death Eaters were doing what he feared, then he would have to report it immediately to the order and to Dumbledore. He needed to confirm his suspicions, and to do that; he needed to see the inside of the house, even if it was just through the window. He crouched under the casement, and spotted the end of Rowan's Extendable Ear up against the side of the house, near the lowest windowpane. George reinserted his own listening device and sent it the short distance to lie flat along the side of the window.  
  
Using the quietest voice he could manage, he whispered, "I've got to try to see the map they're working on."  
  
Rowan breathed a sigh of relief that he was keeping her informed. She could barely make out his outline against the stone of the house, and wanted to know what he was doing, and that he was still safe. She had no way to communicate with him while he was that far away from her, and she didn't like it. When they were done here, she vowed to persuade him into invent something that would allow covert two-way communication. Feeling helpless, she put the Omnioculars to her eyes and held her breath as she watched the ripple of movement that told her George was standing upright and leaning to look into the window. The swear she heard him utter under his breath told her that the window was either still charmed, or that it wasn't affording him view he needed.  
  
"This window is to the sitting room," he whispered, crouching low to move to the next window. "I need to move to the one just north of this one. See if you can counter spell it so I can get close."  
  
Rowan tugged back the Ear and withdrew her wand again. She muttered the spells that had worked for the other window in quick successtion, and the faint blue glow appeared again, and then quickly faded. She sent the Ear out once more toward the new window, and listened to George approach.  
  
"That's it," he whispered, "Now if these idiots would just move a little out of the way.... Damn! It's just what I ...."  
  
Rowan, who had been watching through the Omnioculars, never got hear what he might have said next, because she saw his form reappear in the gathering morning light and crumple to the ground in a heap. Searching wildly around for the cause of his collapse, she spotted a figure materialize from thin air; his attacker had been under an invisibility cloak, by the looks of it. It was one of the four men who had arrived at the house last that morning, and he was standing over George with his wand raised. Rowan didn't have time to think then, because several things began to happen at once.  
  
She jumped from her hiding place and pointed her wand at George's attacker, saying fiercely, "Petrificus Totalus!" The man's arms and legs snapped together, and he fell heavily to the ground. Another figure rounded the side of the house, and pointed a wand at Rowan; she didn't hear the curse he used, but it hit her with enough force to knock her backward several feet. She heard a sickening snap and knew that her right arm was badly broken, and it was only the adrenaline pumping through her system that kept her from blacking out. She switched her wand to her left hand and prayed that it would work as well as it did in her right. The new comer had freed his companion from the full body bind she had placed on him, and were advancing on her while a third had appeared from the back of the house, and used another spell on George, who had been showing signs of life, that made him convulse terribly. Ignoring the two men coming at her, she sent a curse flying at George's assailant and watched with satisfaction as he dropped to the ground without moving.  
  
"Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no," became the mantra in her head, a denial that everything could have gone so terribly wrong so quickly, and a prayer for George at the same time.  
  
She dodged the jet of red light that was shot at her out of pure luck, and screamed as she felt another curse hit her legs. Again, she didn't hear the incantation of the curse that hit her, but excruciating pain radiated through her legs and made them give way under her. Another spell followed that caught her in the shoulder as she fell, and spun her onto her stomach. She clung to consciousness long enough to see one of her attackers fall inexplicably to the ground, and the other turn to see what had happened to him. The second man fell to the ground as well, and it was then that Rowan could see a tall, dark skinned bald man advancing toward the men with his wand at the ready. There was now a great deal of noise filling the morning air, as several of the house's occupants fled in every direction to the borders of the property where they could safely Apparate away. All of the house's occupants now had their Death Eater masks in place and their hoods drawn up over their heads; the newly arrived men were giving chase, firing spell after spell at the moving targets. One or two fierce duels ensued, but in the end, most of the Death Eaters escaped. Rowan lost consciousness long before the last curse was thrown. She didn't feel a thing when she was levitated onto a stretcher by her rescuers and borne away.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Carly pulled her head out of the fire, and tried to calm herself. She needed to clear her mind of fear and focus on what she would do next, instead of what might already have happened. Fred was on his way, and from there, she imagined that they would go looking for Rowan and George; she needed to get herself dressed and be ready to go when he arrived. She hurried to her room and quickly plaited her hair to keep it out of her face. She traded her dressing gown for some robes, and then pulled some sturdy boots onto her feet, thinking that if her sister was camping, the terrain might be rugged. Her heart was beating faster than it should have been, and she knew that she was feeling some of her sister's emotions along with her own. They had always been able to sense each other's pain or strong emotions, and it seemed they were doing so now. She tried to project a feeling of acknowledgement and hope to Rowan, so that she would know that help was on its way. Once she was dressed, Carly found her medical bag and filled it with some essential potions that would help to heal basic injuries, and a book on various commonly used healing charms, just in case they ran into trouble and needed them.  
  
She was just preparing to put on her cloak when Fred arrived. She opened her door and stepped into his arms for some brief comfort, and soaked in the wonderful feeling of solidness about him. Everything she had been feeling for past few minutes (had it really only been a quarter of an hour?) had seemed so strange, and his presence seemed to help to ground her in her own reality.  
  
"Have you heard anything from Rowan, yet?" he asked as he held her close.  
  
"Nothing," she said, squeezing him a bit tighter before loosening her embrace. She felt she couldn't afford to spend anymore time comforting herself, when she could still feel her sister's urgency. She had just turned away from him and was turning to grab her cloak and bag when with a cry of, "Oh!" she winced, grabbing her right arm. Fred took a step toward her in alarm, and she fell to the ground in an apparent faint.  
  
"Carly!" Fred cried, kneeling down next to her. What was he supposed to do now? He fought back the panic he felt and forced himself to think. He lightly patted her cheeks and called her name, to see if that would rouse her, and finally he pulled out his wand and muttered, "Exsuscito!"  
  
His breath he had been holding came out in a whoosh of air as her eyelids began to flutter, and then opened slowly. She sat up cautiously, "I felt...pain...my arm, my legs...." she said shakily, "It's gone now, but I felt it." She leaned against Fred for support while he helped her to her feet. She seemed a little weak, but her eyes were clear, and held a hint of fear and alarm. He guided her across the room and to the sofa, where he urged her to sit while he went to start some tea.  
  
"I don't want tea, Fred!" she protested. "I want to go find my sister!"  
  
"You've just fainted," Fred pointed out in a voice that was deceptively calm, but firm nonetheless. "And you had pain in both your arm and your legs. If you're going anywhere, it will be to St. Mungo's to be checked over. If you show any more signs of pain, though, I will drag to bodily to the hospital if I have to. I have some people I trust out looking for Rowan and George right now, and they'll contact us here if they find anything at all, so I'm going to go make some tea while we wait for word."  
  
He didn't wait for her to agree or protest, but went straight into the kitchen, where he sagged momentarily against the wall to gather himself. His heart had jumped to his throat when she had fainted, and then once she'd woken up, he told himself that she must have felt something of what Rowan must be going through. If Rowan was in enough trouble to broadcast those kinds of feelings to her sister, then something must have happened to George, as well; he knew his brother would have to be incapacitated to have let any harm come to Rowan. Fred comforted himself with the fact that Bill was out searching for them both, and that he would leave no stone unturned if he found evidence that anything had happened to them. His main priority now was Carly.  
  
He filled her kettle and tapped it with his wand, causing steam to pour from the spout instantly. He added the tealeaves to the diffuser, and warmed the teapot; a simple task to occupy his mind and to keep him from worrying too much. Once the tea was ready, he poured out two cups, and laced hers liberally with a shot of Ogden's Old Fire Whiskey from the sealed bottle he found in a cabinet over the stove. He took the tea to her, and smiled faintly when her eyes rounded and teared up after her first sip. She spluttered a bit before setting the cup aside, and asked, "Who do you have looking for them?"  
  
Fred sipped his own, un-doctored tea, and said, "Well, my brother Bill, for one. He'll have called out as many people as he could find in good time. He has a couple of friends who are Aurors, so I'm guessing they will be on the list of those he gets to help."  
  
"And all of these people will be willing to help, just because I had a premonition?" she asked skeptically.  
  
"I talked to Bill right after I heard from you, and he promised he would do everything he could. I trust him, and he knows I wouldn't have asked him for help unless I believed there was trouble," Fred explained. "I know it's hard just to wait here, but it's the best we can do right now; especially if you're going to be fainting on me."  
  
"But what if they don't find them?" she insisted, avoiding the tea he'd made for her, and sipping from his cup.  
  
He didn't want to think of the implications of that question, and so he said, "I promise that if we don't hear anything from my brother or his friends within an hour, I'll go looking for them myself."  
  
"You mean that we'll go looking for them," Carly corrected with a steely undertone. "Don't believe for a moment that you're going to leave me behind."  
  
"Don't you think you should wait here incase they come back while I'm out looking for them?" he asked, knowing as he said it that she wasn't going to fall for it.  
  
"I'll leave them a note," She said crossing her arms in a posture of defiance. "I'm not letting you walk out that door and have three people that I love missing."  
  
Fred was saved from finding an argument to that by the appearance of Bill's head in the fire. "We've got them both. Get to St. Mungo's, I just arrived, so I don't know what's what yet, but they're both unconscious. They took them to Fourth Floor for Spell Damage."  
  
"You'll Floo mom?" Fred asked, as Carly jumped up to get her cloak.  
  
"That's next. See you soon." Bill's head disappeared with a quiet pop, and Fred took a pinch of powder from the porcelain box on Carly's mantle. Her Uncle Nigel and Aunt Suzette would want to know what was going on. It wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to.  
  
----  
  
George came back to consciousness to find his mother sitting by his bedside, asleep in her chair. It took him a moment to register that he was in a bed, and thought groggily for a moment that he must be in the hospital wing at Hogwarts. He couldn't remember why, at first, and then that morning's events flooded back in on him, leaving him with only one thought: Rowan.  
  
Throwing aside the blanket that covered him; he realized that his muscles were sore and weak. There was a curtain drawn around his bed and the chair that his mother occupied, so he could not see anything else around him. There was an emblem on the curtain, though, that told him that he was at St. Mungo's hospital, though he had no idea how he had come to be there. What he wanted to do right now was to find Rowan and make sure that she was safe. Why wasn't she here? He sat up quickly, and swayed as his vision went gray for a moment, and his head throbbed viciously. He had to fight to keep his stomach from expelling its contents as he struggled to move his feet over the edge of the mattress.  
  
"George!" Mrs. Weasley was on her feet and trying to ease him back down onto the pillow.  
  
"Mum," he said, trying feebly to swat her hands away. "Let go! I need to find Rowan."  
  
"Rowan's here dear, in another bed. Her Aunt and Uncle are with her now, and healers are doing their very best for her," Molly said, pulling her son firmly back into bed. "You'll be able to see her in just a little while. Your father and Bill should be along soon as well."  
  
"Another bed? She's hurt? What happened? How did we get here?" His only thought was that his stupid stunt at the Malfoy estate had given her away; it was the only explanation.  
  
"Hey! Take it easy, bro," Fred parted the curtain and stepped inside. "You've been through the ringer. I just saw Rowan, and she's going to be fine."  
  
The words of reassurance from his brother did for George what his mother's assurances had not. He allowed Molly to tuck him back into bed and let himself relax a bit; Fred wouldn't lie to him about something as serious as Rowan's condition. He was grateful when Fred suggested that Molly fetch the healer in charge and let him know that George was awake. Fred wouldn't talk as openly with his mother sitting there, and George wanted direct answers.  
  
"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Fred asked quietly, sitting in the seat his mother had just been dozing in, so that his brother didn't feel the need to sit up again. He knew his mother would take some time in finding the healer, since the man had just announced he was going to take a twenty-minute break.  
  
George explained how he and Rowan had staked out the Malfoy estate and whom he had seen arrive. Fred gave away none of his inner turmoil over Percy's defection; he didn't want to get off of the main subject, he merely nodded his understanding and gestured for George to continue. The story ended when George said that he had never even seen the curse he'd been hit with coming. Seeing the Death Eaters gathered around the map they'd been working on was the last thing he remembered before waking up in St. Mungo's.  
  
"Fred," George swallowed hard. "They're trying to re-create the Marauder's Map. We have to tell Dumbledore."  
  
"I'll take care of it," Fred promised. He could hear his mother and the healer coming their way, and so he stood and touched fists with his brother in an affectionate gesture, and held the curtain aside, sidling out as they came in.  
  
Fred walked along the ward, and stopped at the curtain that surrounded Rowan's bed. She was awake now, and Carly, Nigel and Suzette all had chairs pulled up to her bedside. She looked up as soon as she saw him and asked, "George?"  
  
"He's awake," Fred assured her with a grin that didn't quite reach his eyes. "He's a bit sore and weak, but otherwise, he seems fine to me. He's more worried about you than anything else."  
  
She visibly relaxed at this news, and Suzette patted her hand briskly and said, "You see? I told you he would be fine."  
  
Fred nodded and turned to Carly and gestured her to the other side of the curtain. "I have to go and see some people. It's very important, but I can't take you with me, and I don't want you going home alone."  
  
"Who do you have to see?"  
  
"Look, I don't want to lie to you, but I can't be completely honest," he said quickly. "It's about what George and Rowan saw at the Malfoy estate."  
  
Carly looked into his eyes for a few moments and then nodded in understanding. "Be careful. I don't want you as a patient."  
  
"Always." She promised, kissing her softly before parting the curtain so that she could go back to her sister. He moved to kiss Rowan on the cheek and then did the same to Suzette, who blushed prettily and chuckled.  
  
"I have to go," Fred offered his hand to Nigel, who shook it. "I'd appreciate it if you could take Carly home with you until today's events get sorted out."  
  
"Of course," Nigel said. "It will be our pleasure to have her with us as long as necessary. Our home is her home, as ever."  
  
Fred nodded, kissed Carly once more and left the ward. He headed down the stairs and ran into his father and Bill coming up. They paused on a landing and Fred said without preamble, "I have to talk to Dumbledore. Now."  
  
"What's all this about, Fred?" Arthur asked his son in concern.  
  
"George saw some of what the Death Eaters are planning, and it involves sneaking into Hogwarts. Everyone at the school could be in danger soon. I need to see Dumbledore now, and tell him what I know so that he can do whatever he can to prevent it."  
  
Arthur looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but thought better of it. Instead, he said, "Take Bill with you. I'll make an excuse to Molly until you have time to fill me in later."  
  
Bill clapped his father on the shoulder, and turned to go back the way he came. To his credit, he hadn't even turned a hair at the change of plans, and followed Fred to the hospital's departing apparition point. They agreed to apparate to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade and walk to the school from there. Fred would have time to fill Bill in while walking up to the castle once they arrived in Hogsmeade.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

It was late afternoon the next day when Fred made it back to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, Just in time to find Lee putting the 'closed' sign in the window and preparing to leave for the day. He was as tired as he could ever remember being, and though he hadn't really slept at all for two days, he at least felt that he had gotten a few things accomplished. He finished locking up the shop so that Lee could leave early, and went through the routine of checking that everything was as it should be before trudging up the steps to the apartment above the shop. He dropped his cloak somewhere in the vicinity of the hook by the door, and slumped into an armchair without even removing his boots. A wave of his wand lit a fire in the grate, and his eyes fluttered closed as he went over the past two days events in his head.  
  
Bill had still been shaking his head, half in amusement, half in amazement at the story Fred had told him about the Marauder's Map and its capabilities when they arrived in Hogsmeade. They had arrived at the castle during the dinner hour, and entered the Great Hall to find Dumbledore at the head table talking with Professor Snape. He had looked up and seen them, and calmly took a sip of his wine and dabbed at his mouth with a napkin before excusing himself and moving to greet them.  
  
Several of the students had spotted Fred and waved or called out a greeting, which he had returned absently as he watched his old headmaster approach. Even though he had been out of school for several months, he couldn't help but experience the feeling that he was about to be sentenced to a month's worth of detentions with Filch. He had seen Ron, Harry and Hermione looking puzzled at their presence, but they had stayed seated when he had gestured for them to stay put. They had put their heads together at once to discuss what it could possibly mean to have both Bill and him standing in the great hall in the middle of October. Bill had made a movement with his arm, and had Fred looked over to see Bill signaling to Ginny, who had been sitting further up the Gryffindor table, that everything was fine, and mouthing, "Don't worry."  
  
Fred thought vaguely of moving to his bed, but the armchair was so comfortable...  
  
"Bill, Fred," Dumbledore greeted them as if he had been expecting them. "Shall we meet in my office?" He turned and led the way without waiting for them to respond, with every appearance of cheerfulness.  
  
They followed him to the stone gargoyle where Dumbledore uttered the password, "spice drops!" and then step onto the revolving stair. A stolen look at Bill told Fred that he seemed to be having the same sense of déjà vu that he was. Was there a Weasley that hadn't been called to this office at some point? Maybe Percy, he mused, though he was not amused by thoughts of his brother. He followed Bill and Dumbledore inside and took the seat that was offered to him in front of the large desk.  
  
"What brings you to Hogwarts today?" Dumbledore asked without preamble.  
  
"Professor, this morning there was an incident at the Malfoy estate that George and his girlfriend, Rowan were involved with," Bill began, sensing Fred's unease.  
  
Dumbledore nodded, and said, "Yes. I have spoken with Kingsley Shacklebolt. He filled me in as best he could. I trust that George and Miss Winters are recovering?"  
  
Fred nodded, and then said, "Sir, George woke up a while ago and gave me some news that we thought you should have. It concerns something he saw at the Malfoys, but I guess I need to go back a little father." He silently prayed that Harry would forgive him for divulging the secret of the map, and continued, "When George and I were at school, we, uh, liberated a certain item from Filch's office. It was called the Marauder's Map, and is map of Hogwarts, including all of it's secret passages out of the school."  
  
Dumbledore surveyed Fred for a moment, and said, "And you bequeathed it to young Mr. Potter three years ago."  
  
At Fred's stunned look, the headmaster chuckled before becoming serious again. "I know about the map, Mr. Weasley; it is still in Harry's possession." He'd made sure of it.  
  
"Yes, well, then you probably know this map has certain abilities.... to tell where different people are within the castle and it's grounds."  
  
Dumbledore nodded and motioned for him to continue with his confession, "You probably know, then, that the map was designed by four former students... one of which went by the name of Wormtail..." Fred paused to see if any of this was news to the older man.  
  
Bill made the connection and swore under his breath at the implications of what he was hearing. He knew who Wormtail was from his dealings within the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
"They've got Pettigrew working on re-creating the map, with Percy helping fill in missing details about the castle. According to George, it looked nearly complete, but it hasn't been enchanted yet," Fred finished, though it seemed unnecessary.  
  
"I can't say that I haven't been expecting something like this since I learned of the map and it's makers," Dumbledore admitted. "Very well, then. Bill, I will need to ask you to return to headquarters and give a report to the others. Call a formal meeting; we will have to begin setting a watch at the Shrieking Shack."  
  
"There's another tunnel that leads to Honeyduke's," Fred added feeling angry at the whole situation.  
  
"Yes," Dumbledore nodded calmly. "I'm afraid that any tunnels, other than the one from the Whomping Willow into the Shrieking Shack, will need to be completely disabled."  
  
"Shouldn't they all be destroyed?" Bill asked.  
  
"We may need an alternative route out of the castle if the situation becomes too dire."  
  
Dumbledore looked over his glasses at the two young men in front of him to be sure they understood the implications of his words. "If the castle is breached, the safety of the students will be our number one priority. The members called for the watch at the Shrieking Shack should have the ability to create portkeys, should it become necessary to evacuate the students to a safe location."  
  
"What can I do?" Fred asked. He wanted to do something constructive, even if he was not to be allowed into the Order yet.  
  
"Bill, if you would go and call that meeting, I will try to join you later, if possible. I am going to need Fred to stay here tonight to help make plans to secure the castle." Dumbledore walked him to the door of the office and added, "On your way out, would you please have Professor McGonagall send Harry to me here, with his map?"  
  
Bill nodded and left without further questions. Dumbledore returned to his desk, took out his wand, and with a smooth movement conjured a plate of sandwiches and a flagon of pumpkin juice. He had not missed the tired look to Fred's face, or the dark circles beneath his eyes.  
  
"I think that in the course of today's events, you may have neglected to eat properly," he said kindly, gesturing to Fred to take a sandwich. "It could be a while before Minerva locates Harry and gives him time to retrieve the map."  
  
"Thank you," Fred said, reaching for the plate and biting into a thick ham and cheese. As soon as he took a bite, he realized that he was famished. He gratefully took the juice that Dumbledore poured for him and took a deep draught.  
  
Dumbledore, too, took a sandwich, and began to eat; Fred and Bill's arrival had prevented him from finishing his own repast, and while he wasn't hungry in the strictest sense of the word, he didn't wish to make the young man in front of him uncomfortable by watching him eat. They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their meal, until Dumbledore finally said,  
  
"I'm grateful that you came to me with this information, Mr. Weasley. I know that you feel frustrated with the restrictions that your mother places on you in regards to the Order. I have to say that I admire your restraint; we both know that you are old enough – and even eager - to join, and only refrain to honor your mother's wishes."  
  
"Mum's been through a lot," Fred said, feeling the heat in the back of his neck as he fought not to blush. "What with dad getting bitten, Ron, Ginny and Harry at the Ministry, George and I leaving school to open the shop, and Percy, and all. George and I can't seem to bring ourselves to baldly ignore her feelings, even if we think she's wrong."  
  
"Molly is a strong and capable woman with a deep and abiding love of family. Percy's seeming defection hit her as a blow, and this latest development isn't going to do anything to detract from her pain. It is as real a wound as any you could inflict on her person, and she bears up under the strain admirably," Dumbledore said quietly, knowing that he was not saying anything that wasn't already obvious to her son. "That being said I should tell you that even if you and George have not been accepted as a full members of the Order, your help has been and will continue to be, valuable to us. With your new business getting off the ground, and new love in your lives, you might find that full membership in the Order would be a heavier burden than you would expect."  
  
"We could handle it," Fred said firmly.  
  
"There's no doubt in my mind that you can," came the calm reply. "Order or not, you both may be called upon to help in your own unique way."  
  
Fred nodded, and reached for his pumpkin juice again. There had been so many thoughts running through his mind all day, that he could scarcely believe that he had been planning to spend this day having a quiet picnic with Carly in the countryside.  
  
"Tell me about Carly," Dumbledore said kindly, with the customary twinkle in his eye. "I believe that you've been seeing quite a bit of her lately. Extraordinary how things work out, isn't it? That you and George should unwittingly find identical twins in completely separate circumstances is remarkable."  
  
Fred smiled in spite of his embarrassment at having Dumbledore ask about his love life. He was about to tell the headmaster all about her and her family (he felt that her aunt and uncle would be sympathetic to the Order, and possibly useful contacts), but was forestalled by a knock on the door. He turned in his seat to see Harry come in, looking nervous, and smiled at him in greeting. Harry looked faintly queasy as he took the chair next to Fred at Dumbledore's urging.  
  
"Good evening, Harry," The old man said gently, to put Harry at eas, "Professor McGonagall asked you to bring a certain map with you?"  
  
"Yes, sir," he took a worn piece of parchment from his pocket that Fred remembered quite fondly. "I've got right here."  
  
He handed it over to Dumbledore, not meeting his gaze as he did so. Fred was sure that Harry didn't see the headmaster's lips twitch as he took the parchment and spread it on the surface of the desk. He vanished the plate of sandwiches and juice and looked up at the two boys, gestured to the blank parchment and said, "If I might ask?"  
  
Harry's face flooded with color, and Fred cleared his throat to cover the laugh that was bubbling up inside him and stood up, "Allow me... I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!" He tapped the map with his wand and watched the spidery lines form the outline of the castle. He was surprised how much he had missed saying that particular phrase.  
  
"Ingenious," Dumbledore said appreciatively, then said almost to himself. "But then James and Sirius were more brilliant by the age of twelve than many adult wizards."  
  
Harry, looked as though he wasn't sure what all this was about, seemed to sense that he wasn't going to be reprimanded for being the owner of such a map, and listened curiously as Dumbledore gently pointed out the dangers posed by the secret tunnels that lead out of the school. Harry understood that sneaking into Hogsmeade was no longer going to be an option for him, for whatever the reason, and was horrorstricken at the fact that neither he, nor Ron or Hermione had thought of the implications of Pettigrew having been one of the creators of the map. For the next hour, he stood in front of Dumbledore's desk, next to Fred, and helped Dumbledore navigate the map and explain exactly how it worked. By the time Fred showed his former headmaster how to make the map go blank, (mischief managed!) Fred knew that Harry had a million questions running through his mind.  
  
Fred could practically hear the gears turning in Harry's head, and could see the disappointed acceptance flit over his expression as Dumbledore locked his beloved map in his desk drawer. Harry was dismissed to return to Gryffindor Tower, and Fred was positive Ron and Hermione were waiting to hear every detail of his meeting. He could envision them huddled in a corner just downstairs under the guise of Prefect duties, waiting for Harry to come down the stairs out of this office. He had a shrewd suspicion that Dumbledore knew it, as well.  
  
"Well, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore smiled at him. "You and George managed to keep this map secret all this time.... I'm impressed. I don't think it would be bragging to say that there isn't a lot that involves Harry that I am not aware of."  
  
Fred nodded, not quite sure that he should be proud of the compliment he had just been given. Dumbledore, however, didn't seem to need him to give any explanations on the matter, and said, "Professors Snape and McGonagall should be joining us shortly. There are plans that need to be made in regards to the security and possible evacuation the school, should Voldemort's plans to invade the school succeed. I would appreciate it if you would stay to give us the benefit of your expertise in this area."  
  
"Yes sir, professor."  
  
At that point the other two Professors arrived. Though Professor Snape made it clear that he was less than enthusiastic about Fred's involvement, he subsided after a few calm words from the headmaster, and the four of them discussed some of the emergency plans that were already in place for the castle, and how they could be revised to be more effective, and made new plans. It was quite late when they all agreed that they had a good plan of evacuation for the students. They all prayed that they wouldn't need it. The only thing left was to alert the staff and perfects of the changes in security, and try to keep everything else as quiet as secret as possible so as not to cause a panic among the students.  
  
Dumbledore invited Fred to stay in the guest quarters at the castle, or to arrange for him to have a room at the Three Broomsticks in the village, but Fred asked to stay in Gryffindor Tower. Dumbledore seemed to know without being told that he wanted to spend time with his siblings and to fill them in on their brother's injuries and recovery. He gave Fred permission, and the password to Gryffindor Tower, and Fred had left him to go over the plans they had just made once more.  
  
He had climbed the stairs to Gryffindor tower, given the password to the Fat Lady, and climbed inside to find Ron, Ginny, Harry and Hermione alone by the fire, deep in discussion. Ginny spotted him first and cried, "Fred!"  
  
"Fred!"  
  
Fred opened his eyes and was surprised to find that he had drawn his wand simultaneously, and was pointing it at his father.  
  
"Take it easy, son," Arthur said gently, withdrawing the hand he had put on his son's shoulder to rouse him. "I've just brought George home from hospital, and wanted to check in with you."  
  
"What time is it?" Fred asked groggily, sitting up in the chair he had never gotten around to leaving.  
  
"Nine o'clock, Tuesday morning."  
  
"Hell," he replied, rubbing his eyes and trying to focus. He had not gotten nearly enough sleep, and the shop needed to be opened in about a half and hour. "Where is George?"  
  
"He's in bed," Arthur said. "But he probably won't stay there. The only way that the healers would let him leave St. Mungo's was if he promised to go straight to bed and take it easy for another day or two. He's going to be a bit weak, and needs to take the potion they sent home with him every five hours."  
  
Fred scrubbed his hands over his face wearily, trying to focus on what his father was telling him. He stood up with no real thought in his head but the fact that he needed a cup of tea, and a shower to wake him up. He was glad to know that George was well enough to come home, and he wondered idly Rowan had been released as well. He couldn't imagine George wanting to be released if Rowan had to stay there. He would have wanted to be near her until she was allowed to go as well. He supposed that both Rowan and Carly were now installed temporarily at the Winters' estate until things settled down.  
  
His father followed him into the tiny kitchen, and took the kettle out of his hands when he Fred simply stood there, holding it as if he couldn't remember why he had picked it up. Urging him to sit in a chair at the table, Arthur took over the making of the tea, and within a couple of minutes; Fred was sipping at his first cup with a grateful sigh. Moments later, George stumbled blearily into the room with a blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, and sat in the other chair with a groan of, "Tea!"  
  
Once both of his boys were sipping tea and eating the biscuits from a tin that he had taken from the pantry, Arthur took off his glasses and began polishing the lenses on a soft cloth taken from the pocket of his robes. Fred and George gave each other a meaningful look at this familiar gesture from their dad; they both knew that it was his way of stalling for time when he needed to say something that might not be well received. They watched him in silence for a few more moments before George finally said, "Just say it, Dad."  
  
Arthur didn't pretend that he didn't understand what his son was talking about. He replaced his glasses, took a fortifying breath and said bluntly, "Percy was spotted fleeing the scene by Aurors when you and Rowan were attacked, George. The Ministry has officially listed him as a suspected Death Eater, and there's been a reward posted for his capture."  
  
Fred just sat with is mouth hanging open, waiting for someone to tell him that this was all a big joke. George issued a single succinct swear, then asked, "Mum?"  
  
"Coping," Arthur said grimly. "Barely."  
  
Fred sighed, stood without a word, and made his way to the small fireplace against the far wall. He kneeled down, took a pinch of powder from the pot nearby and tossed it into the flames and called, "The Burrow!"  
  
He held his breath as he plunged his head into the fire and surveyed the kitchen of his parents' home. Molly was sitting at the table, a lonely figure, with her hands wrapped around a mug, and red-rimmed eyes staring off into space. Fred swallowed the lump that rose in his throat at the sight, and called softly, "Mum!"  
  
Molly's eyes came back into focus as she spotted her son in the fire, and she left the table to stand in front of her own fireplace, "Hello, dear."  
  
"Mum, I hate to ask, but can you come to work at the shop today?" Fred asked quietly. "I mean, it's Lee's day off, George is still recovering, and I need to sleep more than I need to breathe. We could really use a hand."  
  
"Of course I can," she said brusquely, wiping at her eyes and patting her disheveled hair. "I just need fifteen minutes to pull myself together, and I'll be right there."  
  
Fred returned to the kitchen, sat opposite George again, and said, "Mum's going to come in and see to the shop today so George can recover, and I can get some sleep."  
  
Arthur nodded and patted him on the back in a proud and grateful gesture. They all knew that Molly would be better off if she could keep herself busy, and Fred had just given her the perfect way to set her troubles aside for a few hours. George touched his fist to Fred's in a long-practiced gesture of solidarity, and then said, "Someone should tell Ron, Ginny and Harry before they read it in the Prophet, or hear about it from one of the other kids at school."  
  
"Dumbledore is seeing to it, though I don't know how much of the story will make it into the Prophet right away. Fudge will want to keep it as quiet as possible that yet another person close to him has been found to be in league You-Know-Who." Arthur seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment, and then spoke again in a somewhat amused voice. "Remus Lupin is at Headquarters right now, waiting for word that Ron and Ginny have been told the news; then he's planning on sending an anonymous tip to the paper himself. We're going to take a page out of Fudge's book, and try to use the media to our advantage, calling on him to resign his post. Madam Bones is in an excellent position to replace him; she's fair and honest, and she supports Dumbledore, though she isn't a member of the Order. Fudge has seen how much popularity she's gained recently, and he's been looking for a way to tarnish her character, but hasn't been able to come up with anything."  
  
"Carly's Aunt Suzette and Madam Bones are good friends. Is the Order absolutely sure that Fudge isn't in league with You-Know-Who himself?" Fred asked; his brow furrowed as he thought of how this news would affect his family.  
  
"As sure as we can be," came the unsatisfactory reply. "Fudge may be the mother of all idiots, but we have no solid evidence to support the idea that he isn't just incredibly foolish in his choice of acquaintances and ministerial decisions. Frankly, I just don't think that he's so good an actor that he could have fooled Dumbledore all this time, and Dumbledore himself had taken to referring to Fudge as 'that near-sighted fool'. Time will tell, I suppose. It shouldn't be long now before his remaining supporters abandon him like rats on a sinking ship."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**  
  
As it turned out, the Order didn't have to use any influence at all to unseat Fudge. Strangely enough, it had been Narcissa Malfoy's capture that had turned public opinion irrevocably against the Minister. She had been apprehended only three days after the incident at her estate, and had wasted no time in seeking her revenge against Fudge for failing to help her free her husband. She had implicated him in several crimes involving bribery and misappropriation of funds that were supposed to have been donated by the Malfoy family to St. Mungo's Hospital. That information, coupled with a well-worded article by Daily Prophet reporter Rowan Winters, had helped to seal the Minister's fate. Within a week, Fudge had been forced by the Wizengamot to step down as Minister, and had appointed Madam Amelia Bones to the position of Acting Minister until an official Wizarding Election could be held.  
  
While the Dark Mark had been spotted twice more over wizarding houses in Britain, there had been no sign of Percy in the two weeks since he had been seen in the company of Death Eaters. He had, of course, failed to return to work at the Ministry, and his apartment was being closely watched for any sign of his return. During that time, Molly held herself together by diverting her attention to other things, and keeping busy. She began helping out at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes by keeping their books and taking care of their banking; occasionally minding the counter. Fred and George doubted that the shop (or the apartment above it) had ever been so clean since it had been built; in view of the fact that their mother had been coming regularly to Scourgify it. When she wasn't at the shop, she worked for the Order and made wedding plans with Fleur and Bill. The family seemed to be silently banding together to preserve their mother's sanity, and keep spirits up. Arthur worried that she was pushing herself too hard, but remained silent on the subject; he understood her need to try to forget for a few hours each day that one of their sons was a wanted criminal.  
  
Fred and George carried on in the shop with a feeling of anti-climax. They still had products to sell and develop, and a lot of curious customers to deal with. Now that the fight against Voldemort had hit so close to home, they felt divided between running their shop and going out to search for Percy on their own. The fact that they had no idea where to begin looking, and the Order wasn't giving them any clues, was a major factor in their decision to maintain the status quo. At any rate, Halloween was fast approaching, and the shop was busy with customers preparing for the holiday. Molly was recruited to package and send out all Owl orders, and Lee worked at the counter as Fred and George replenished supplies as they depleted. The Shrieking Snaps were a particularly popular item, and Molly amazed them all by snorting in amusement, but saying nothing, as she packaged a particularly large order of them for Harry and Ron.  
  
It wasn't until Halloween itself that things took an interesting turn. The morning edition of the Prophet featured a front-page article by Rowan about the "real" events surrounding the deaths of Lily and James Potter fifteen years ago. The story asserted that Peter Pettigrew, long thought to be a tragic martyr, was alive and well, and in the service of Lord Voldemort. Furthermore, it was reported, it had been Pettigrew, not Sirius Black, who had betrayed the Potters and murdered a dozen muggles all those years ago. It claimed that Peter Pettigrew had been, and indeed still was, an unregistered Animagus, who had cut off his own finger and fled into the sewer system in the form of a rat to save his own skin when Black had caught up with him. Black had been blamed unjustly for the deaths of twelve muggle bystanders, and the alleged murder of his one-time friend Peter Pettigrew. He had been innocent of the crimes that he had been imprisoned in Azkaban for.  
  
George sat at the table of Rowan and Carly's apartment, reading the article with his mouth hanging slightly open, his eggs and toast forgotten on his plate. The article was very well detailed; a little too well detailed, George thought, for someone who didn't have access to personal information about the events Rowan had reported. The article maintained that Harry Potter had given former Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, information regarding these facts well over a year previously, but had been ignored. Now George was left wondering how Rowan could have known that without interviewing Fudge (who was likely to deny it), the Weasleys (which he would have known about), members of the Order (whom she shouldn't be aware of), or Albus Dumbledore (whom he doubted would freely give out such information). His mind was sorting through all of the possibilities with one other underlying idea: 'I'm going to be blamed for this.'  
  
"So what do you think? I can't believe my story is on the front page!" Rowan had been watching George's reaction to what he was reading, from the doorway to the kitchen. When he looked up at her with an odd, calculating expression on his face, she moved forward and sat on his knee. She picked up his toast and took a bite before saying, "Brilliant, isn't it? I couldn't believe how easily it came together... all of the pieces just fell into place once I started comparing all of the notes.... What's the matter?"  
  
George shook his head for a moment, and then finally asked the one question that he couldn't find the answer for. "Where did you get all of this information?"  
  
"I'm a reporter," she shrugged, feeling a little uneasy. He was looking at her very strangely now. "It's my job to dig up facts and then put them into a cohesive...."  
  
"Where did you dig up these particular facts?" he asked, with a trace of a growl in his voice. He noted that she wasn't looking him in the eye. "This isn't the sort of thing that's a matter of public record for anyone who wants to research it."  
  
"No, of course not, or people would already know it, and I wouldn't need to tell them!" She got to her feet and walked over to the window before continuing. "I didn't do anything really dangerous, but I can't tell you anything more than that." He was sitting where she'd left him, looking stonily at her over the rim of his teacup, which he had lifted to his lips only a moment before. She studied him for a moment, realizing that while he was upset about the article itself, it wasn't the content of it that was worrying him. Finally it dawned on her. "You're not the least bit surprised by anything I wrote in that piece." It wasn't a question. "None of it is news to you."  
  
A flush crept up George's neck as he set his cup down, and he willed himself stay calm and not let her turn the tables on him. She was really good at diverting things away from herself by changing the subject. He knew so much that wasn't known to the general public, that he had to think if there was anything dangerous in admitting to this particular set of facts. "Of course I knew all of this. Harry Potter is practically one of my brothers; I'd have to be blind, deaf and dumb not to have known it."  
  
Rowan had the distinct impression that he was keeping something from her, but couldn't fathom what it might be. He was still looking at her expectantly, waiting for an answer to his original question; he was really good at staying on topic, even when she was trying to change it. She returned to the table, and sat in the chair across from George, saying, "I don't get what the big deal is. What does it matter how I know what I know, as long as I didn't put myself in danger to find it out?"  
  
"Because there are only a handful of people who know... or I should say knew... this information. I can't imagine any circumstance in which any of the people who did know it would have told anyone," He said. "I can't help but wonder about who else might have had this information.... Oh my God, I sound just like my father!"  
  
Rowan giggled at the sudden comical switch from his concern over her investigative sources to horror at sounding like a parental figure. "See," she smiled sweetly at him. "Even you think that you're being too harsh. I can't give you my source of information, but I will guarantee that I wasn't in any situation I couldn't handle, and that I don't think that anyone you know is telling tales out of school."  
  
George realized that he couldn't continue to press the issue without compromising his own secrets about the Order. He couldn't tell her about the Order until he got permission to do so from Dumbledore. Unfortunately, he knew that it was going to seem to many that he had "leaked" information to his girlfriend, and he wouldn't be able to tell them where she had gotten the information. With a sigh, he nodded, re-warmed his breakfast with a wave of his wand, and picked up his fork. "As long as you're not putting yourself in danger."  
  
"Good," Rowan smiled, reaching across to take his teacup, "I'm glad to hear you say that, because for the second part of this story, I'm going to try to find Peter Pettigrew."  
  
"You're what?" he asked sharply, dropping his fork with a clatter.  
  
"I'm going to try to find Peter Pettigrew." She repeated the phrase again, as calmly as if she was announcing that she was going out to buy a new pair of shoes.  
  
"The hell you are!" he said, standing up quickly, with no real idea of what he meant to do. He shoved frustrated fingers through his already sleep-tousled hair and paced back and forth a few steps before coming to a stop in front of her. "Do you realize that looking for that... that man could land you in St. Mungo's again? Or worse? He handed over one of his best friends to You-Know-Who, and let another one be sent to prison for more than a decade. He murdered a dozen muggles without even blinking! He murdered Cedric Diggory!"  
  
"I know this, George." Her voice was quiet and serious, now. "Don't you think that everyone else deserves to know it to? There's an innocent man out there, somewhere, forced into hiding for a crime he never committed."  
  
George digested this bit of information slowly. If Rowan believed that Sirius was still alive, then it was certain that it wasn't a member of the Order who had given her the information for her article. That was some small measure of comfort, at least. He was left with the struggle with himself between telling her that Sirius was not, in fact, in hiding anymore, and the fact that he would be divulging information that he really shouldn't know. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she wasn't going to let this drop, and so he simply said, "It's too dangerous. You've told your story. Now let the authorities do their job and let them be the ones to find him."  
  
"The authorities?" Her tone and her expression were both incredulous. "Assuming they even believe the story? The Minister for Magic himself knew about this two years ago and did nothing!"  
  
"There's a new Minister now," George said hopefully. "Why not wait and see if she takes any action before jumping into this on your own."  
  
The look she gave him was all the answer he needed. He finally decided that he would be better off agreeing with her, and insisting on being present when she searched anywhere outside of The Daily Prophet offices. 'After all,' he thought to himself, 'if the Order of the Phoenix hasn't been able to find Pettigrew for two years, what are the chances that Rowan will be the one to hunt him down?'  
  
"Okay, I'll make you a deal," he said. "I won't try to stop you from looking for Pettigrew, if you promise that you'll take either me or Fred with you whenever your search takes you out of the office. And if you find Pettigrew, you alert the MLE immediately."  
  
She thought about it for a few moments. George really only wanted to protect her from danger, she knew, and not without good reason. He had already proven that he was not only good company to have, but very useful; the Extendable Ears had been especially helpful. "Deal," she said. "As long as you let me do my job and don't get in the way."  
  
"Deal." He bent forward to seal it with a kiss.  
  
"You're going to need some Muggle clothes today," she said when the kiss ended.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I just promised you that I wouldn't search for Pettigrew outside of the office, and that's what I'm doing today."  
  
With a sigh, George went to get his cloak and his shoes. He had a feeling that it was going to be a long day. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**  
  
George sat in the quiet of the Library; wearing some of the muggle clothing he'd worn the previous year, before leaving Hogwarts - he rarely wore them now that he was a fully fledged businessman in the wizarding community. He found himself poring over recent issues of Muggle newspapers, with dates that corresponded with the sighting of the Dark Mark. Rowan had also told him to look for any articles containing 'mysterious' deaths, accidents, or anything 'unusual.' All of this stuff is unusual to me, George thought glumly, as he looked at a picture on the front page of one of the papers with the Muggle Prime Minister on it. It was creepy how they never moved. He skimmed the articles with little hope of finding anything; he suspected that this 'job' had been a device of Rowan's to keep him occupied and out of her way while. She was searching archived news articles on some bizarre looking mechanism that the clerk at the reference desk had called a "computer." She seemed to have used one of these things before, because she didn't ask for assistance. She just sat in front of the "screen" and occasionally tapped the lettered buttons on the "keyboard." George glanced in her direction once or twice for signs of her being done, but found none. He returned to his own search.  
  
_A strange sight greeted constables who arrived at the site of a devastating tragedy in Kent last night. The Kimball family, John (34), Corrine (32), and their two children, Michelle (10), and Brock (7) were all found dead in their home of unknown causes. Constables were said to have witnessed a strange, luminescent cloud in the sky above the home, which gradually dissipated, but which was described a "eerie." Constable Declan Anders asserted at first that the cloud had been the unmistakable shape of a skull to it, and that it had hung in the air like a balloon, instead of blowing away as chimney smoke is wont to do. When asked to confirm this fact later, Constable Anders seemed confused, and unsure that he had seen the cloud at all. Early findings indicate that that the Kimball family may have burned a toxic substance in their fire, and that the resulting fumes may be the cause of death. A burned toxic substance may also explain the eerie cloud above the home, though further investigation is clearly warranted_.  
  
"Well I found an article," George said, sitting up and stretching. "But I don't know if it will be of any help. From the sounds of it, any witnesses were Obliviated. The Muggles' explanation for the Dark Mark is just vague enough to make me think it was fed to them."  
  
"No, that's good. Do me a favor and copy the article for me." Rowan looked up from her work and stretched. "I'll want to visit the site and try and talk with any neighbors. You never know if one of them saw something without knowing they were seeing something."  
  
"Do you think I'm safe using my wand here?" he asked, looking around.  
  
"No, this place is crawling with Muggles," Rowan answered distractedly. She pointed to a large box with wheels on the far side of the room. "You'll have to use the machine over against that wall."  
  
"Machine?" The idea of using Muggle technology was vaguely terrifying; it just seemed so unpredictable.  
  
"The photocopier."  
  
"But there isn't a photo for this article."  
  
"Just take the part of the paper with the article over to the machine and read the instructions on the top. It's really easy."  
  
George decided against arguing, since he found that he rarely won an argument with Rowan unless he allowed him to, and took the paper to the machine she had pointed to. He examined it closely, and read the directions through twice before opening the lid and looking at the glass plate inside. The directions were pretty straight forward, and there was even a sign that read: Place document between arrows. He placed the article that she wanted copied in the designated place, closed the lid, and pressed the green button. He jumped and stepped backward when the machine began to hum and click, and then looked around in embarrassment to see if there were any witnesses to lapse of composure. No one was paying attention to him, and so he turned his attention back to the machine; it had spit forth a smooth, white sheet of parchment from a slot in the side, and onto a shelf that seemed to be there for that purpose. It ceased humming. Curious, he took the paper, thinking that perhaps it was giving him further instructions, and was surprised to see a copy of the article on it.  
  
"Wicked!" he said, examining the parchment carefully, and then removing the original from the machine.  
  
"Are you finished?"  
  
George turned to find a Muggle standing behind him, obviously waiting to use the machine. He nodded, and stepped aside to watch the machine work again. The Muggle placed a large text, open and face down on the glass plate, but didn't close the lid before pressing the activation button. A bar beneath the glass plate traveled from one end of the machine to the other, emitting a bright light as it went. The light went out as the bar returned to it's starting point. Fascinating.  
  
"Can you copy anything on this thing?" George asked the Muggle eagerly.  
  
"Pretty much," he answered with a shrug. He took his book and walked away.  
  
Approaching the machine once more, George lifted the lid and touched the glass. It was cool to the touch. He laid his hand flat against it and pressed the green button with his other hand. He watched the progress of the bright light, prepared to jerk his hand away if it became hot or painful in any way. The parchment slid out of the bowels of the machine as before, this time with a picture of his hand on a black background. Amazing! Could he take a picture of his face? He looked around briefly, and then laid the side of his face against the glass, and press the button once more; he closed his eyes to avoid blinding himself. Once the light disappeared and the humming stopped, he lifted his head and was delighted with the paper that the machine ejected, bearing a slightly distorted profile of his face, freckles and all!  
  
"Young man," came a stern voice from behind him. "I must ask you not to do that. This is not a toy!"  
  
"Yes ma'am," George answered, too excited to wipe the smile from his face. The woman looked like the Muggle equivalent of Madam Pince, the Hogwarts Librarian. He took the 'copies' she had made, and retreated to his seat to see Rowan shaking her head, with a smirk on her face. He grinned sheepishly at her and showed her the papers he had brought back.  
  
"You're hopeless," she said, in mock severity. He didn't need to know that she had done the same thing when she'd first learned about copier machines. She decided it was probably a good thing that he hadn't seen the computer printer at work, and gathered the papers she'd printed, the copy of the article George had found, and her satchel. He had been more patient than she'd expected, and thought the least she could do was treat him to lunch.

  
  
While George had been sitting in a Muggle library, Fred had taken his first break of the day from manning the counter of the shop. Lee had flooed him to say that he was sick and couldn't come in, and his Mum wasn't due in until around lunchtime. The store had been busy that morning, with many shoppers picking up tricks for Halloween. Now that there seemed to be a lull, he quickly brewed a pot of tea and opened the copy of the Prophet that he had not had time to peruse until now. It didn't take long for his eyes to fall on the headline of the front page: _Peter Pettigrew Alive!_ He choked and spit tea all over the counter, noting with horror that the author of the story was none other than Rowan Winters. He read the article once quickly, and then again, more slowly. He couldn't believe what he was reading, and wondered a bit stupidly if George had seen this article yet. He'd spent the night at the girls' apartment, so of course it was probable that he had; it _was_ his girlfriend who'd written it. He could only imagine what George's reaction to this 'news' had been, but he knew they'd be discussing it in detail, most likely with members of the Order in attendance.  
  
_'Well there's nothing I can do about this now_,' he thought with resignation. He cleaned up the mess he'd made with his tea, and sighed as the bells over the door tinkled; it looked as though his break was over.  
  
"Surprise!" Carly smiled as he looked up from wiping off the counter, "I've gotten off work earlier than I expected." She leaned over the counter and planted a brief kiss on his lips, then plucked a blue gumball from a small dish with a sign that read "Free Sample! Try One." Fred only looked blandly at her questioning look, and so she popped it bravely in her mouth and began to chew.  
  
"This is by far the foulest, most disgusting thing it had ever been my misfortune to put in my mouth!" she said in an uncharacteristically rude tone. Shocked by the words she had just uttered, she tried to apologize, but instead said, "And that is the stupidest looking..." She clapped a hand over her mouth in distress.  
  
Fred grinned widely. "Grumbling gumballs," he explained. "While you're chewing it, you can't control the complaints and insults, however untrue, from coming out when you try to talk."  
  
She promptly rounded the counter and spit the gum in the dustbin. "Brilliant!" she announced happily.  
  
"We tested them out on Bill," he chuckled. "Fleur didn't speak to him for three days."  
  
"It leaves a bit of a bitter after taste," she observed.  
  
"Most harsh words do," Fred said sagely. "We're short-handed today, Lee is sick, and George is off somewhere with Rowan. Mum will be in soon, but I'm afraid it'll be too busy for me to get away until this evening."

"I can stay and help out a bit. Are you still going to be able to make it to Uncle Nigel's tonight? He loves Halloween."  
  
"I'll be there. I've got a new product for him to try out. It's right up his alley; Sleep Inducing Sugar Cubes. One or two in a cup of tea, and the drinker will drop off almost instantly, and wake up about two minutes later with no idea what happened. They're similar to Fainting Fancies."  
  
"Better yet," Carly smiled impishly. "Give them to Aunt Suzette."  
  
"Perfect!" he declared, and pulled her in for another kiss.  
  
The bells over the door tinkled again, and a group of witches came in together. Carly lent a hand with one of the witches who wanted some of the pastries behind the counter, and George answered the questions of the other two witches as they browsed the store.  
  
Carly and Fred worked companionably side by side, and soon the witches left, happy with their purchases. Fred mentioned that they were getting low on Coughing Cookies, and Carly volunteered to go start another batch; not that it would ever take the place of healing, but she had been enjoying learning how to make some of the more perishable treats the boys sold in their shop. Fred smiled to himself as he watched her disappear into the back of the shop. George had agreed that it would be okay to entrust some of their secrets to Carly; she was obviously becoming a permanent fixture in their lives. He would have to have to do something about changing that "becoming" into just plain permanent. He was still smiling when his Mum bustled in, apologizing for being late.  
  
"Oh, Fred dear! I'm so sorry," she said, rounding the counter and kissing his cheek. She had taken to kissing all of her children at every opportunity since the news had come about Percy. "That article Rowan wrote, you know. Have you seen it? Mad-Eye has been in a right flap about it, and insisted on calling some of the members to headquarters to discuss it. As if Rowan could be a spy – honestly! It took me an hour to convince him to wait until I'd had the chance to find out what I can. You might want to warn George to steer clear of Mad-Eye, by the way."  
  
Fred nodded, having had experience with the ex-Auror's paranoia. He could just hear the old man raving about how George should have known what was going on under his own nose, etc., etc. and how did he know she could be trusted? Fred wasn't worried about Rowan's loyalty, but he was a little concerned that George might have been sharing more with her than was necessarily wise. He understood the desire to share everything with the woman he loved, but there was a lot at stake that depended on secrecy. He hoped to talk to Dumbledore soon about bring both Carly and Rowan in to the Order's confidence soon.  
  
"And Mundungus!" Molly was starting to fume, as she often did when Mundungus Fletcher's name was mentioned. "Trying to sneak out of headquarters with that silver in his cloak. I don't care if he is a member of the Order, he's..."  
  
"Hello, Molly," Carly entered the room cautiously. "You sound upset. Is there anything wrong?"  
  
"Oh! Carly, I didn't know you were here." Mrs. Weasley flushed and mentally cursed herself; this was the second time she'd mentioned the Order around the girl. "No, nothing's wrong. I was just blowing off steam. I have an acquaintance that's very aggravating, is all."  
  
"Well I think everyone has acquaintances like that," Carly answered with a smile. "Would you like me to make you some tea?"  
  
The moment passed, and neither Fred nor Molly could tell whether or not Carly had overheard any of Molly's conversation. Carly acted normally, and greeted the next customer cheerfully before going to check on the cookies. They all worked together in harmony for the next hour before Carly took her leave, saying that she had some shopping to do. As Fred watched her go, she reflected that his life was becoming very complicated.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

George came home shortly after closing and headed straight for the shower. Rowan had dragged him all over London after they'd had lunch, and he was exhausted. He didn't know how she kept up the pace that she did with out an energizing potion of some sort; people had always said that he and Fred were energetic, but he had to admit that the title for that description had to go to Rowan. She had gone tirelessly from place to place, asking questions at each destination, both Wizarding and Muggle, about the events that had taken place on the night that Peter Pettigrew had disappeared. It wasn't until she had checked her watch and found that it was already six, that she let him see her home.  
  
Now he was expected to show up at her Uncle Nigel's estate for a Halloween 'get together.' He couldn't think of any way to gracefully bow out of the event, as his Mum and Dad were invited to tonight's do to meet the girls' family for the first time, and he had a feeling that the gathering was going to be anything but comfortable for him. While Fred seemed to really like Nigel, George had a feeling that he had yet to pass some secret test in the older man's eyes. Whenever he had had occasion to spend time in her family's company, the meetings were always stiff and vaguely awkward in some undefined way. He found it hard to reconcile the man the Fred described to him as a kindred spirit and prankster with the serious and formal man he knew Nigel to be. 'Maybe he has a twin too,' was a thought that had crossed his mind before, but Rowan had assured him that it wasn't the case. She had assured him (or tried to) that Nigel really did like him, and that he would warm up to him very soon. He wasn't sure how he felt about that.  
  
He shed most of his clothes in his bedroom, and stopped short when the bathroom door opened up and a cloud of billowing steam rolled out. Fred emerged with damp hair, and a towel anchored around his hips.  
  
"You're going to be late," he said by way of greeting.  
  
"As usual," George agreed as he disappeared into the steam for his turn in the bathroom.  
  
Standing under the steadily falling hot water, George let the heat soak into his muscles as he rolled his shoulders and wet his hair. Today had been kind of nice, even though he knew Rowan had dragged him along as a kind of lesson to prove that she wasn't always in imminent danger when he wasn't around. He had enjoyed watching her work, questioning everything she read and every fact that she learned. He grinned when he remembered standing in the street staring at her like an infatuated schoolboy, and seeing her keep looking over at him with a suspicious look on her face, sure he was planning some mischief. She hadn't made any real progress today from what he could tell, but she didn't seem to be the least little bit discouraged or disappointed. He knew that she would spend countless more days just like today, and never tire of it; it was what she loved to do.  
  
"What are you going to do with all of this when you're done?" he'd asked her that day, picking up a huge stack of parchment scrolls that held her notes.  
  
"Tell the story," she'd answered. There had been a far-off look in her eyes that told him all to clearly that she could already see it in print in her mind. "Maybe, if there's enough detail and information, I can put it all together into a book some day."  
  
"Is that what you want?" he'd asked curiously.  
  
"Yes," she'd answered simply, with a gleam of pleasure in her eyes at the thought of it.  
  
George had gotten an image in his mind then, of a little house in the country, with a workshop for himself and an office just for Rowan to work in. It wasn't the first time he'd built this house in his mind, but it was less frightening this time that it had been before, when he'd caught himself imagining his future with her securely in the center of it. Did he dare to even dream that it could come true with the second rise of You-Know- Who seemingly well underway, with no visible end in sight? He shook himself mentally to clear his darkening thoughts, and determined not to think about it anymore tonight. 'One day at a time,' he told himself. 'Let's just get through tonight first.'  
  
----  
  
Fred was wearing a set of his nicer robes in a deep shade of plum that should have clashed horribly with his hair, but somehow managed not to. He was busily combing his hair; there was a bouquet of flowers and a small gift bag lying on his bed, and as he caught sight of them in the mirror, he smiled a bit to himself. He wondered if he should have gotten a little something for Carly as well, but dismissed the idea. He would send her something tomorrow as a thank you for tonight. He got more pleasure out of surprising her at odd moments than when she might be expecting a gesture of some sort from him. As his thoughts began to wander to what he would really like to buy her, George came hurrying into his room wrapped in a towel with his hair still damp and started rummaging through Fred's closet.  
  
"In your room."  
  
"What?" George asked, looking up at his brother's image reflected in the mirror he was using.  
  
"My navy blue dress robes," Fred answered. "I already put them in your room. You never have any clean robes when you really need them."  
  
"Thanks!" George turned to go back to his own room.  
  
"I'll wait for you!" Fred called after him.  
  
When George didn't appear by the time he was ready, it was Fred's turn to barge into George's room; he flopped down on his brother's bed, dressed and ready to go, as his twin was fastening his borrowed robes. Fred made no comment about the battered trainers that George was wearing underneath.  
  
"I didn't hear you come home last night," Fred said casually. He picked up a battered copy of Quidditch Monthly from the pile beside the bed and thumbed through the pages without really seeing them.  
  
"That's because I didn't," George answered bluntly, reaching for the comb on his dresser and attacking his hair. "Does that bother you?"  
  
"No," Fred shrugged. It did, a little, but he couldn't think of any particular reason why. "We just haven't really talked about, you know, stuff since your first night back from America."  
  
"You're right," George answered, looking suddenly thoughtful. "But now isn't the time; we're going to be just on time. Barely." He picked up his wand and stowed it in his pocket as Fred got to his feet. "We'll talk tomorrow. After the shop closes, just you and I will get some dinner and catch up."  
  
"Deal," Fred said, touching his fist to George's in a long practiced gesture. It was an oddly tense moment, but it passed quickly.  
  
Fred went to his room and got his cloak, wand, bouquet and gift. As he followed George out the front door of the shop and magically sealed it, he handed him the bouquet.  
  
"Here."  
  
"Why Fred! You shouldn't have!" George smirked at him. "What are these for?"  
  
"They're for Suzette. They're her favorite, and you're going to give them to her. It's only common sense, as she's our hostess tonight, and you're shagging her niece."  
  
"Thanks," George said soberly as they headed to the Leaky Cauldron. He was thoughtful for a moment as they walked along the cobbled road, then spoke quietly and seriously. "You know, I'm not just shagging her. It's not just... it's not like that; it's...it matters."  
"I know, bro," Fred clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder. "We'll talk about it all tomorrow."  
  
"Yeah," George said with obvious relief. "Thanks for thinking of the flowers, by the way. How is it you always know?"  
  
"I'm the smart one," Fred grinned.  
  
"What does that make me?" George asked with mock indignation as they stepped inside the crowded pub and queued up to use the out going Apparition point.  
  
Fred answered him in one short word that had George punching him in the arm and chuckling. They stepped up to the small cubicle used for Apparition, and in moments they were on their way up the front walk of the Winters' estate.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Suzette greeted them at the door, and kissed each of them as they presented her with the gifts they had brought. She buried her face in the flowers George offered her and called him a 'sweet boy'. She had laughed merrily when Fred had given her the Sleep Inducing Sugar Cubes and whispered what they were in her ear, and then she had hidden them out of sight with a wink. Nigel's idea of a 'get together' seemed to be about a hundred people in semi-formal dress enjoying food, music, dancing and conversation. They found Rowan and Carly standing with their uncle, both dressed identically, and to the untrained eye, impossible to tell apart. One of the girls stepped forward and took George's hand, but George said, "Nice try, Carly, but Rowan had me first."  
  
"Are you sure you've got that right?" Uncle Nigel asked him with raised eyebrows.  
  
Fred eyed the other twin with mild suspicion, was this some sort of trick? George, however, was in no doubt. He simply said, "Positive." He stepped around the girl who had taken his hand, and leaned in to kiss her twin.  
  
"How did you know?" Rowan asked when the kiss ended. "We can fool our own mother when we're really trying."  
  
"I'd know you anywhere," George said in all sincerity. "But the ink stains on your hands are a dead giveaway."  
  
Nigel seemed satisfied with George at last; as if the younger man had, indeed, passed some test. He smiled broadly, said, "Well done!" and draped an arm around his shoulders, jovially leading him off to meet some colleagues. George looked surprised, but pleased, and grinned over his shoulder at his brother, Rowan and Carly as he walked away.  
  
"Poor George!" Rowan laughed, using her wand to change the shade of her robes from cream and gold to blue and gold to compliment was George was wearing. "He was afraid Uncle Nigel would never warm up to him - and now look!"  
  
While George was shaking hands with a group of men about Mr. Winters's age, Nigel was looking around as if he had lost something. His eyes alighted on Fred and his nieces, and waved them over, as if surprised that they hadn't been right behind him the whole time.  
  
"Don't let Uncle Nigel fool you," Rowan said slipping her arm through one of Fred's as Carly did the same on the other side. "He plays the innocent and slightly baffled act very well."  
  
"But he's as sharp as they come," Carly finished.  
  
"I don't think I'll underestimate him," Fred smiled, enjoying having the two prettiest girls in the room on either arm as he led them across the room. "He ordered three deluxe Skiving Snackboxes last week to get himself out of a series of boring business meetings. He's also been trying to find ways disguise a Canary Cream so that your aunt will eat it."  
  
"Oh Fred! You haven't been giving those awful things to Mr. Winters, have you?" Molly Weasley had just caught the last of Fred's comment as she approached. She had been watching the little trick that Rowan and Carly had brewed up from across the room, and it had done her heart good. In her opinion, she couldn't have hand picked a better match for wither of her boys than the young women they were paired with now.  
  
"He came to the store and bought them mum," Fred grinned. He stepped forward to kissed his mother's cheek, knowing it would make her smile. "You look pretty."  
  
Carly and Rowan followed suit as they greeted her, and they were soon joined by George and Nigel who also kissed her cheek. By the time Arthur had joined them, he was clucking his tongue and saying, "Now look, Molly, I've gone and left you for five minutes, and you've already got other men trying to kiss you!"  
  
Molly blushed and chuckled as she took the proffered flute of champagne from her husband. It was so seldom that they were invited to events that were not Ministry related; she was thoroughly enjoying wearing the pretty new dress robes that Arthur had insisted she buy, and mingling with the crowd. There were a lot of influential people here, including the new acting Minister of Magic, who was a long time friend of their hosts. She had liked Nigel and Suzette immediately, and looked forward to getting to know them better in the future.  
  
"Well then let me even the score, Mr. Weasley," Rowan offered, stepping forward to kiss his cheek as well. "You look very handsome!"  
  
Carly was a bit more reserved, but hugged Fred's dad warmly and reiterated Rowan's statement. "It's nice to see you again Mr. Weasley; that shade of green certainly suits you."  
  
"Well it seems that I'm going to have to take my wife out of temptation's way and indulge myself at the same time. Molly?" He offered his arm, and Fred and George watched fondly as their father escorted their mother onto the dance floor. They rarely saw this side of their mother and father, and were reminded strongly of moments from their childhood when they would sneak out of bed and catch their parents dancing in the living room by the firelight. They hadn't understood it all then, but they didn't miss it now.  
  
"They love each other," Carly said in Fred's ear, as if she had read his thoughts. "It shows."  
  
"It always has," he agreed. He offered his arm as well, and guided her into a slow waltz with steps he'd practiced meticulously for days. Soon George and Rowan, Suzette and Nigel and many others joined them on the floor.  
  
The evening was going well, and passed, for the most part, without incident. There were actually a number of Order members in attendance that nodded politely when introduced to Fred and George and pretended that this was their first meeting. It wasn't until nearly ten o'clock that Fred overheard Suzette whisper to her husband.  
  
"I don't know who that is. Maybe the guest of a guest?"  
  
Curiosity had him turning to see Mundungus Fletcher as Fred had never seen him before. He was clean-shaven, for one, and his ginger hair was pulled neatly into a leather thong at his neck. His robes looked as though they had come from the most expensive of shops, but seemed just a shade too large for him. What is going on? Surely he wasn't on the guest list. Fred thought to himself, and excused himself from the group he had been standing with to move closer. George joined him a moment later, and gave each other apprehensive looks as Dung made his way through the crowd and headed straight for Arthur.  
  
"Uh-oh," George muttered under his breath. "Looks like trouble."  
  
Mundungus was walking briskly to a quiet corner with Arthur and Molly and speaking earnestly, if his body language was any indication. They casually looked to see Rowan and Carly engaged in conversation with a group on the other side of the room, and then made their way toward their parents.  
  
"No," Mundungus was saying quietly, "It has to be now. Dumbledore's already called all available members to Hogsmeade and the school. Bill is waiting at headquarters, but he won't wait long."  
  
"But what if it's not a trap? What if he really does want to..." Molly sounded fearful, but Arthur cut her off.  
  
"Well have to take the risk either way." His face was as grim as his voice, and as he spotted the twins openly eavesdropping, he nodded at them to come closer.  
  
"What's up, Dad?" George asked quietly.  
  
Mundungus looked to Arthur for guidance as to whether or not to include the twins in the conversation. They weren't technically members of the Order, but knew more than many of their 'official' members did. Molly looked as though she were about to protest, but Arthur looked at her and simply said, "This is a family matter, Molly. They deserve to know what's going on."  
  
"Is everything all right?" The sound of Nigel's voice from behind them made all five of them jump.  
  
"Oh, Nigel," Arthur said. "I'm afraid that Mundungus here has come to deliver some news to us. We're very sorry, but we'll have to take our leave to deal with a family matter."  
  
"Of course," Nigel said smoothly, recognizing the threat of tears in Molly's eyes and the worried expression on everyone else's. "I'll have your cloaks brought out. I hope that you'll let us know if there's anything at all we can do to help."  
  
"We will, and we appreciate it," Molly said sincerely. "It's been a lovely evening."  
  
"I hope you will join us here again very soon." He answered sincerely, motioning for a house elf that had been stationed nearby. He gave instructions to the elf to retrieve the cloaks, and then stayed with them until she reappeared.  
  
"We'll be there in a few minutes," Fred said to his father. His tone said that he would brook no arguments on this point. "We need to tell the girls that we're going."  
  
Rowan and Carly had accepted that the Weasleys had to leave due to a family emergency, but had argued that they wanted to come to lend support. It wasn't until Fred promised that they would be contacted as soon as the family knew exactly what was happening, that they agreed to stay behind. The boys had left the house after making their excuses, and walked to the edge of the front garden and past the wards that made it impossible to apparate on the grounds.  
  
Before making the trip to Grimmauld Place, George put a had on Fred's shoulder and said, "Dad said it was a family matter. Dung said that Dumbledore's called for reinforcements at the school."  
  
"Mum said something about a trap," Fred added. "What do you think we're walking into?"  
  
"Let's go find out." George said.  
  
With a loud crack he was gone. Fred looked back toward the house where he had just left Carly before taking a determined breath and the he, too, disappeared.


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen  
**  
Number twelve, Grimmauld Place was as gloomy as ever as Fred and George entered through the front door. The gaslights along the hallway were lit, and cast a dim glow on the sleeping portraits that lined the walls. Stepping quietly past the curtained portrait of Mrs. Black, they headed straight for the kitchen, where they knew everyone else would be gathered. They could hear voices as they approached the door, and stopped briefly to see if they could make out what was being said. There was still the chance that they would be denied participation in anything that happened because they weren't actual members of the Order, and so they wanted to gather as much information as they could beforehand. When all they heard was the indistinct rumble of low voices, they shrugged to one another and proceeded into the room.  
  
Dumbledore's head was in the fire as they came in, and Molly and Arthur were kneeling before the hearth to make conversation easier on all involved. Mundungus was sitting at the long wooden table, along with Bill, both of who had their eyes on Dumbledore, listening intently to what was being said, but apparently not being active participants in the conversation. Making as little disturbance as possible, Fred and George took seats at the table and waited to hear what was going on, and what Dumbledore had to say about it.  
  
"The fact is that we can't take any risks with the school. The unusual number of known and suspected Death Eaters spotted in the village today alone gives me reason to believe that there is some plan about to come to light. I've got all available Order members posted in Hogsmeade or on school grounds to be on hand for any eventuality, and the Ministry has gotten word of the Death Eater sightings and has sent a handful of Aurors to check things out. Those of you at headquarters right now are the only ones left to deal with the situation with Percy."  
  
At the mention of Percy's name, Fred glanced over at George and noticed that his fists were clenched tight on the table, knuckles white. Fred's own jaw was clamped tight as he waited to be enlightened. What did Percy have to do with increased Death Eater activity near Hogwarts? Had he helped them complete the map? It was his mother's next words that gave him a jolt in his chest.  
  
"If this is a trap, so be it. If there's even the slightest chance that Percy has seen the error of his ways and wants to come back to us, I have to do what I can."  
  
"They may be counting on that, Molly," Dumbledore said gravely. "I pray that I am wrong, but don't let your guard down, even for a moment. You must treat him as suspect, and if he proves that he truly does want help, we will provide it. I don't want you taking any unnecessary chances; plan very carefully."  
  
Arthur and Molly nodded. Both of his parents had changed drastically in the last thirty minutes from carefree partygoers to concerned and heart- broken parents. No one in the room was in doubt as to how far either of them would go to win their son back, though they all had their doubts as to how likely it was to happen.  
  
"You have less than an hour until the designated meeting time," Dumbledore warned them. "Use it wisely."  
  
With a quiet pop, his head withdrew and the kitchen was silent for a moment as everyone tended their own thoughts. It was Fred who broke the silence.  
  
"Percy's asked to come back?"  
  
Arthur got to his feet, and then helped Molly to hers before answering. "He sent Dumbledore an owl this afternoon. It said that he wanted to meet with Dumbledore tonight to figure out a way to get away from the Death Eaters; that he hadn't known what they would expect him to do as one of their members. He said that he felt that Dumbledore was the only one with the power to help him, and that it had to be tonight while the other Death Eaters would be otherwise occupied. He gave a time and a location for the meeting, in a wizarding house a few miles outside of Hogsmeade."  
  
"Dumbledore is afraid that this letter was sent as a ploy to lure him away from the castle, leaving it more open to attack," Bill added. "On the other hand, it seems almost too obvious a ploy. Percy may actually be sincere in his appeal for help, and is using the confusion of a Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade or the school as a cover to slip away unnoticed."  
  
"Percy's not stupid," George commented, trying to keep the fear and bitterness out of his voice. "He would know that if Hogsmeade or Hogwarts came under any kind of threat, Dumbledore would make protecting it his personal priority, and not have time for meetings for Death Eaters with cold feet."  
  
"True," Bill said without emotion. He seemed to be dealing with the situation by remaining detached. "He might see this as his only chance, though, and be banking on the fact that Dumbledore would send someone capable in his stead."  
  
"I agree with Mum," Fred said, trying to absorb everything that he was learning. "In the end, it doesn't matter if it's a trap. If there's a chance that he wants out, we have to try to help him. If it is a trap, we have an opportunity to reduce the number of the enemy."  
  
Every face in the room was troubled as they laid out their plans. Arthur, Molly and Bill would go to the meeting to find out the truth of the matter. It was deemed that Fred and George would only add tension to the interview, as they had always been a major source of annoyance to Percy in the past. Therefore they would perform the Disillusionment Charm on each other and keep watch from outside, and Dung would wear an Invisibility Cloak. If it turned out to be a trap, Mundungus would go straight to the Ministry of Magic and call for any help available, though they were aware that if there was simultaneous Death Eater activities elsewhere, help might not come. They might very well be left to handle this alone.  
  
Something wasn't right. The Weasleys had left over an hour ago, and Rowan couldn't rid herself of her feeling of unease. Rowan trusted her intuition implicitly, and knew without a doubt that George was in imminent danger. She scanned the room for Carly, and spotted her standing with Madam Bones and Aunt Suzette. Her normally calm twin was fiddling with her hair and acting fidgety –sure signs that she, too, felt on edge. She made her way over to the other women, and slipped her arm through her sister's, and led her away to a quiet corner.  
  
"Do you feel it?" she whispered.  
  
Carly nodded, and whispered back, "Should we check at the Burrow?"  
  
"We can try, but I don't think that anyone's going to be there. There's something brewing, and George and Fred are in the thick of it," Rowan said with certainty.  
  
Carly bit her lip and said, "There's something going on with the whole Weasley family."  
  
"What do you mean?" Rowan asked sharply. It wasn't like her sister to make unfounded allegations, so when she made a statement like this; it was worth paying close attention to.  
  
"It's just," Carly looked unsure as to whether she should be saying what she was about to say. "It's just that I've heard Molly make some odd comments on two separate occasions. They first time was when I went to the Burrow to meet the family, and she said something about being on duty for the Order."  
  
"The Order?" Rowan looked baffled.  
  
"Yes," Carly said. "And she got really flustered right after she said it, and covered her mouth like she'd just uttered a huge secret. Then just this morning, I overheard her talking to Fred in the shop. She didn't know that I was there, and was going on to him about 'headquarters' and the 'Order' and Mad-Eye being all upset about your article and someone named Mundungus."  
  
"Well what did she do when she realized that you'd heard?" Rowan asked. This all sounded very strange to her, and working at a newspaper, 'strange' was an every day event. She had never heard of anything called "The Order" in her researching. She did know that there was a retired Auror nicknamed Mad Eye Moody, because he'd been part of the story of Harry Potter's witnessing Lord Voldemort's return. That must be whom she was referring to, but why?  
  
"The first time she slipped, while we were at the Burrow, I just smoothed it over like she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. Nothing more was said about it, and I didn't ask Fred, because I got the feeling that it was a big secret," Carly said. "And this morning, I don't think she knows that I heard as much as I did."  
  
"Wasn't that man who came to talk to Arthur named Mundungus?" Rowan asked, trying to think.  
  
"I think it was," Carly agreed thoughtfully.  
  
"So this Mundungus and Mad Eye are members of this 'Order' that's a big secret," Rowan summarized. "And he comes here to talk to Arthur and Molly, who are apparently also members."  
  
"Then Fred and George suddenly leave to take care of a family emergency," Carly added, a look of concern darkening her normally serene features. "Do you think that they're members too?"  
  
"It would make sense," Rowan said. "Or why would Molly be talking to Fred about it or mentioning it at the dinner table?"  
  
"What could this 'Order' be about? What do they do? Why wouldn't Fred and George tell us about it?" Carly asked, not really expecting her sister to supply the answers.  
  
"I don't know," Rowan said with determination coloring her voice. "But when we see them next, we're going to find out."  
  
"What do we do until then?" Carly asked in return.  
  
"The only thing we can do," Rowan said with a furrowed brow. "Trust them." 


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter Nineteen**  
  
The small group apparated into the large garden outside of the house that Percy had specified in his letter. It was a frigid night. Two of their number were charmed, and so were well camouflaged, but for the plumes of steam that issued forth from the warmth of their breath; they tried to breathe shallowly or through their noses to lessen the effect. One wore an invisibility cloak, the easier for him to discard if he needed to apparate to the Ministry quickly to summon help. The three that were visible approached in full sight of the house and anyone who cared to look out. They all had their wands out and ready, incase of an ambush, though Bill, Arthur and Molly made sure to keep their hands in plain sight to keep potential snipers form getting twitchy. There were lights on inside, and a light by the front door. Fred, George and Mundungus gave the house a wide berth as they circled, looking for signs of activity within and a window through which they could observe. Mundungus held back at the edge of the property, ready to go for help, and to act as lookout. Fred found an extendable ear in his pocket (he rarely went anywhere without a set), and gave it to Mundungus, for use in hearing what was going on near the house. The twins heard the front door open, and Percy's voice asking, "Why are you here? I asked for Dumbledore."  
  
"Did you really expect him to come personally?" The sound of Arthur's voice carried well in the still night.  
  
There was a pause, as Percy appeared to consider his father's question, and then he answered, "No. I guess I didn't. Come in."  
  
The sound of the door closing was ominous to Fred as he stood to the right of a window that looked into the sitting room. George was on the left side of the window, squinting through the lacy curtains that covered the glass from the inside. The room within was cast in shadows, and the only light came from the kitchen, which appeared to be adjacent to this room. He felt exposed here against the house, and images from the last time he'd used the Disillusionment Charm to look into a window flash through his mind, reminding him of how badly that had ended. He said a little prayer of thanks that Rowan wasn't in harm's way this time as he saw his parent's forms move into the kitchen through the far doorway. It looked as though they would be conducting their meeting in the kitchen.  
  
Fred motioned to his brother, nothing more than a ripple of the air, signaling the need to move to the other side of the house. George nodded, knowing that Fred would sense the movement, then spotting a familiar flesh- colored string on the ground at their feet, whispered, "We need to move to a kitchen window, Dung. Keep your ears open." The string was pulled away from its spot on the ground, and George knew that he had been heard, then turned to follow the vague ripple of air that was the form of Fred rounding the corner of the house.  
  
"_Damn it! Damn it! Damn it_!" George heard Fred hiss out the swear words as he approached.  
  
Dreading what he was about to see, he eased around his brother and peered into the brightly lit kitchen. The room held three chairs, and Bill, their Mum and their Dad were all bound to them with ropes. Percy, mask-less, held his wand over them, and another mask-less man stood beside him, holding the wands that had been taken from the captives. There were three other Death Eaters in attendance, all masked, wands out at their sides, seemingly staying passive until there was action to be taken.  
  
"It's a trap," Fred pointed out needlessly, keeping his voice low. "Go for help, Dung."  
  
They could hear the crack from a short way off that told them that Dung had gone.  
  
"Okay," George said. "If we break out this window, how many can we take out before they start throwing out curses?"  
  
"Not enough," Fred said firmly. "It'll only take one, and any of them could be killed. These guys aren't going to bother with anything other than _Avada Kedavra_ if things turn sour for them, and we don't know how many more of them are in the house or on the property. We hold tight here until we find out if help is coming, unless something happens to force our hand."  
  
"I don't like it," George said. "If they want them dead, why haven't they killed them yet?"  
  
"Hostages?" Fred suggested quietly, not taking his eyes from the scene in the kitchen. If he listened with all of his attention, he might be able to just make out what was being said inside.  
  
That made sense. They might try to use their captive to try to force Dumbledore to leave the school. A foolish goal, however, if even You-Know-Who wasn't able to best Dumbledore in a duel, did they really think that they had any chance of subduing him? Maybe they didn't need to subdue him, only detain him long enough for something else to happen? They could easily count of Dumbledore's nobility to keep them from serious harm should they be forced to duel him... there were just too many variables here to guess the true purpose of this whole set up.  
  
Beside him, Fred heard George mutter something under his breath, and suddenly the conversation in the kitchen floated out to them with crystal clarity. He had vanished the glass from one of the upper windowpanes, where it was unlikely to be noticed with the way the curtains were hung. He felt George's hand on his shoulder and settled in to listen for clues as to what their next step should be.  
  
"Percy," their mother's tearful voice could be heard, though they couldn't see her face. The captives were seated with their back to the window that George and Fred were crouching at. "You don't have to do this."  
  
"Yes, Mother, I do," came Percy's acerbic reply. "Things have been working up to this for a long time."  
  
"Perce," Bill began.  
  
"Don't you talk to me!" Percy shouted suddenly at his brother, his composed veneer cracking and his face reddening. "None of you ever appreciated me! _Ever_!"  
  
George's grip on Fred's shoulder tightened as they watched Percy begin to pace in front of Bill and their parents.  
  
"That's not true, son." Arthur said quietly. His voice sounded sad and resigned.  
  
"Not true?" There was incredulity in Percy's voice. "_Not true_!"  
  
The man standing beside Percy chuckled nastily in amusement, though whether at Percy's expense, or his captive's it was hard to tell.  
  
"Percy, all we've ever wanted was for you to be happy!" Molly said desperately.  
  
"Oh you did a great job of that, didn't you?" he raged. "You were always so proud of me until I started doing better than him." He pointed his wand in Arthur's direction. "Once I started moving up in the Ministry, all I ever heard was, '_You're making the wrong choices_!' or '_Why would they hire you for that position after the way you screwed up?'_ I couldn't possibly have earned the position on my own merit! No! The Minister must want to use me to spy on you!" He laughed humorlessly as he began pacing once more. "As if you were so important to anyone. What a joke! Do you know what Fudge always said about dear old Dad? Do you?"  
  
"Of course we know," said Molly sadly. "And that's precisely the reason we didn't want...."  
  
"Well Dad might have been willing to stay in a humiliating dead-end position with no respect, year after year, only one step away from the Centaur Liaison Office; but I wanted something better!" It was clear that Percy wasn't going to listen to reason. The words tumbling from his mouth dripped with the venom that had been building inside of him for years. "I used to tell myself that someday my wonderful, supportive parents would pull their attention away from my good-for-nothing, rule-breaking twin brothers long enough to notice that I was the one who never got into trouble with stupid stunts and practical jokes. Did you ever? No. You just stood aside and let them humiliate me time and time again, completely unprovoked, laughing at their stupid stunts and put-downs! When I complained, you'd just say, '_That's just their way'_.  
  
"I told myself that you would see past the acts that Ron and Potter put up every year and realize that I was the one with all the potential. Every time I accomplished something worthwhile, you'd pat me on the head and send me off with a '_that's nice, dear_!' and then spend all your time and energy on everyone else and their problems! Well I don't need that from you anymore."  
  
"That's right," the man beside Percy spoke suddenly. He seemed to want to stem the flow of Percy's speech before he got started again. "He's got us now. We'll take care of him."  
  
'_I'll just bet you will_,' thought Fred, not even feeling the fingernails that George had dug into his shoulder as he fought with his emotions. He couldn't fool himself into believing that Percy would be coming back to them now, and tried to force his mind past the fact that it was his brother standing inside. He needed some of the detachment that Bill was so good at maintaining, so that when the time came, he could do what he needed to do. He felt instinctively that their time was quickly running out. He could feel George beginning to fidget uneasily, as if he too knew that time was short. '_Where is our backup? Surely Dung should have returned by now, with or without aid,'_ he thought with agitation. It was nearing midnight.  
  
"I have a new job now, Mother," Percy said, calming himself once more, "An important one."  
  
"That's right," the other man said once more. "And he'll get even more important jobs after he finishes this one." He turned to Percy and clapped a hand on his shoulder. "It's time. Which one will it be?"  
  
"Which one?" Percy asked. It was suddenly as if some part of all of this was hitting home, and his voice and expression were slightly confused.  
  
"You only have to kill one of them. It's your first time, after all," the man said conversationally. "I'll take care of the others, then we can join the rest of our team and celebrate."  
  
George stood up and would have pitched himself bodily through the window if Fred had not thrown out an arm to stop him. He pulled his brother close, until he could feel the stubble of his brother's cheek graze his own, not caring that his own were wet with the tears that had fallen during Percy's speech. "They can hear us if we're not careful. We need a plan. We'll hit the window with a Reductor, then I'll take the left side of the room, you take the right. If you get a chance, free Bill and Mum and Dad. This is it."  
  
George looked through the window as he listened to Fred's plan of action. Percy had moved to face Bill, and held his wand high in the air. But he wasn't saying the words; he wasn't saying the curse yet that would damn him forever. It was as if the entire horrible scene was taking place in slow motion. '_Don't do it!_' he pleaded silently, a tear running down his cheek. He steeled himself for what was about to happen and nodded firmly.  
  
Fred felt George nod decisively, and stepped away from him. He used his wand to lift the Disillusionment charm from his brother; he didn't want to accidentally hit him in the heat of battle. George did the same to him and they both turned to face the window. "On three," he whispered. "One, Two..."  
  
"I _can't_!" Percy's anguished denial rent the air, and a breath that he hadn't been aware he was holding rushed out of Fred's lungs. On the other side of the window, Percy had dropped his arms with a look of torment on his face. Both he and George paused to see what would happen next, but ready to carry through on their plan at any moment.  
  
Percy had his hands over his face, and was saying repeatedly, "_I'm sorry! I'm sorry_!" It was unclear to whom or for what he was apologizing, but it was like a mantra that he couldn't stop chanting.  
  
"Well, that's okay then," Percy's companion said affably, raising his own wand. "_Avada Kedavra!"  
_  
Percy's lifeless body fell to the ground in a flash of green light. Molly's scream hadn't even had time to pass her lips as George and Fred cried out, "_Reducto_!" and sent shards of glass and splintered wood exploding into the kitchen.  
  
It was pure chaos. "_Stupefy! Stupefy! Stupefy_!" It was impossible to tell who was shouting the words the loudest or fastest as the twins cast their hexes as fast as they could point their wands. They climbed through the wreckage of the window, firing spells the entire time, while the Death Eaters scrambled. More Death Eaters flooded into the kitchen from where they had been hiding in the darkened parts of the house, and joined the fray. Fred and George were cursing steadily, and were relieved when more hexes began to pour into the room from behind them. Their reinforcements had finally arrived. Fred barely had time to register that Dung had brought a most unusual team for back up, before he felt a blow to his left shoulder and felt the blood spatter his face. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten to the floor, but he didn't need to look down to know that a good chunk of him was missing; his arm was completely limp and useless. He wasn't feeling any pain at the moment, but knew in some part of his mind that it wouldn't be long before it came. He still had the use of his right arm, and intended to put it to the best use he could until the fight was over, or he lost consciousness. He got out two more hexes before a stunner hit him in the chest, and his world went black.  
  
George saw Fred go down, and was momentarily paralyzed. A jet of red light passed close to his head, and then he was knocked bodily to the ground before he had a chance to register that he needed to keep fighting while he got himself over to check on his brother. He was surprised to find that it had been his Mother who had knocked him to the ground. Someone had freed her, and she had wasted no time in grabbing Percy's wand from the floor, and knocking George off his feet to keep him from being struck from behind by a curse. She deftly disabled his assailant, sending curses from Percy's wand while tears continued stream from her eyes. She got to her feet and sent one of the Death Eaters hurling against a far wall with a sickening crunch, and he didn't get up again.  
  
Seeing that Bill and his Dad had been freed as well, he made his way on his belly toward the unmoving form of his brother a few feet away. He was relieved beyond measure to find him breathing rhythmically, and used his wand to bind the wound at his shoulder the best way her could. Bill, having lost his wand to Percy's Death Eater companion, had waded into the fight using his bare fists to beat an unlucky masked figure into submission. He moved on to another with out missing a beat, and look of fury and determination on his face. Arthur was also wandless, and was doing the best he could under the circumstances. He was using the rope he had been tied with to bind the arms of the man Bill had left unconscious on the floor.  
  
Now that George was assured that his family was freed, he grabbed Fred's wand and tossed it to his Dad; Fred wouldn't be using it in the next few hours, he was sure. He was only mildly surprised when Carly crawled over to them and began to tend to Fred. His eyes roamed the dueling skirmish; if Carly was here, then Rowan was too. He spotted her and Her Uncle Nigel hexing Death Eaters from the shelter of an overturned table on the far side of the room, unhurt. The fight was beginning to wind down now, as Death Eaters began to be outnumbered by the opposition. He stayed with Fred, and sent hexes out from where he sat on the floor. When the last masked men who had been inclined to remain and fight had been restrained, the remainder of the odd assortment of witches and wizards present stood quietly catching their breath.  
  
All but one.  
  
Molly's quiet sobs could be heard, from her place on the floor, cradling her lost son in her arms. She was pointing his own wand at his chest and whispering hopelessly, "_Enervate!"_ over and over through her tears, to no avail. It was Rowan and Suzette who tearfully knelt down beside her, and gently extracted the wand from her hand. Arthur came and gathered her up before, with one great shuddering sob, she fainted. 


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter Twenty**  
  
St. Mungo's was a flurry of activity. When Carly arrived via a floo port in the lobby, supporting an unconscious Fred's weight against her, she knew immediately that something was amiss. People were scurrying everywhere, and the lobby and adjacent waiting rooms were full to overflowing with patients and their family. She dragged Fred as best she could away from the port, knowing that Suzette and Nigel would be bringing Molly in just moments.  
  
"I need a healer here!" she called out to no one in particular as she laid Fred onto the floor and conjured a stretcher for him.  
  
"You and everyone else here, lady," a man in a nearby chair grumbled. He had a bandage wrapped around his head that was slowly soaking through with blood.  
  
She nodded absently and looked around to see if there was any kind of system worked out to deal with the situation. It appeared there was a sort of emergency triage in it's beginning stages, and available Healers and apprentices were working their way through the waiting crowd, evaluating and separating injuries. One of the closest Healers spotted Carly and called out to her.  
  
"Thank Merlin!" he said with agitation, "We've been trying to reach you for an hour. Get started evaluating these people. We're sending critical cases directly to the fourth floor since almost everyone here is suffering from some sort of spell damage. We're re-routing minor injuries to the fifth floor tearoom where they've set up stations for first year Healers-In-Training to tend to. The Artefact Accidents ward has sent all available personnel to help out here...."  
  
"I didn't get any messages," Carly told him, "I've got Fred here with a Reductor to his shoulder. He's unconscious, but has lost a lot of blood. I was just bringing him here for treatment and found this place in chaos; what happened?"  
  
"What didn't happen?" he asked, signaling for an orderly to take Fred to the fourth floor, "The Death Eaters have sprung small attacks all over the bleeding country almost simultaneously, and the result has been pouring in here for the past two hours. We didn't have any warning at all. Are you going to be able to do your job?"  
  
"Of course I am!" Carly said indignantly. "I've just come from an attack myself, and there should be at least two more injured following me in. I'm going to work in this area until they come through. I'll need at basic Healer's kit."  
  
Carly tried to put Fred out of her mind as she summoned a smock and kit from nearby, and then turned to the first man she had spoken to. She pointed her wand at each of her hands in turn muttering, "expurgo" to clean them before she checked his wound. His head injury was superficial but bleeding profusely, so she sent him to the fifth floor and moved onto a witch who was holding her arm against herself and rocking back and forth in an act of self-comfort. She had a shell-shocked look that told Carly that she would need more than just a broken arm mended. She gently pressed a calming anti-shock potion to the patient's lips, and left her in place for a moment while the potion took effect. She didn't have time to escort the woman to a treatment station, and would have to have the next available person take her. As Carly was moving on to the next person, the Floo Port activated, and Bill stumbled out with Molly held closely against him. She was conscious now, but had the glazed look of someone in shock.  
  
"Bill!" she called out, eyes full of concern, "You need the fifth floor tearoom! They've got an emergency set up there. They can treat your hands, and then tell them that Molly needs a sedative potion for the shock and a quiet place to lie down. Fred is being treated on the fourth floor. I'll send the others to find you when they get here, and I'll come to check on you myself when I can."  
  
With a grim nod, he lifted Molly off of her feet, and cradled her easily as he mounted the stairs, unmindful of his skinned knuckles and broken hand. Carly moved on to a man with a small child in his lap, who appeared to be asleep, and asked him quietly why they were there.  
  
"It was Dementors," he said quietly, eyes haunted. "My wife and I fought off the Death Eaters, but the Dementors... we just didn't have any defense. We grabbed the kids and ran."  
  
"Where are your wife and other children?" Carly asked gently.  
  
"Fourth floor," he said thickly, trying to keep the tears from his voice.  
  
Carly nodded and pulled some chocolate from her kit. "Eat this." She pulled her wand from her pocket and muttered the spells that would ascertain that the man and child didn't require anything more that she could offer. She laid a hand of comfort on his shoulder before moving on to kneel in front of an elderly wizard who also appeared to be asleep. She shook him gently, and got no response; her wand found no sign of life. She conjured him onto a stretcher and signaled an orderly. "Downstairs," she told him quietly, and moved on.  
  
Suzette and Nigel arrived twenty minutes later, and went to check on Fred, Bill and Molly. They soon returned to the waiting area to help hand out tea, and comfort those who were waiting for word about loved ones. The staff were finally able to separate those waiting from those in need of aid, and used what resources they could to comfort both groups. As the initial distress began to wear off, the stories began to come out; Dementors and Death Eaters had descended concurrently upon multiple targets. The modus operandi seemed to be two Death Eaters and two Dementors to each household attacked; Hogsmeade had suffered a blow to a large Halloween gathering at The Three Broomsticks, but the school had been left unscathed and was currently making itself available to those in need of medical care. Some of the worst news came with a man who stumbled in through the front entrance, half carrying, half dragging another, injured, wizard. He looked around wildly and announced to the room in general, "They've emptied Azkaban. Every last prisoner is free."  
  
Trying not to think of the implications of the night's events, Carly looked up from time to time to gauge the progress being made in treating the crowd. The Floo occasionally sprang to life and emitted new patients, but the lion's share of victims seemed to already be here. She was one of four Healer's Apprentices working their way through the room. An hour and a half into her work, an Orderly approached to tell her she was needed on the fifth floor, and she left the remainder of patients to the others.  
  
She climbed the stairs wearily, wondering vaguely what time it was. She stopped on the fourth floor to check on the Weasley's and was relieve to find Bill, hands mended, sitting quietly between two beds that had been crowded into the tiny space. Molly was asleep in one of them, an empty flask on the table beside her, and Fred lay in the other, bare-chested and heavily bandaged. He slept with a furrow in his brow that told her that he had not taken a potion for dreamless sleep.  
  
"Would you like me to conjure you a cot to sleep in?" Carly offered Bill as she looked over Fred's chart. "They won't wake for a few hours."  
  
"I don't think I could sleep," he said.  
  
"Well at least let me make you more comfortable." She waved her wand and transfigured his straight-backed chair into a more comfortable chaise. She knew that the night's events would catch up with him soon, and sleep would come whether he wanted it to or not.  
  
"Thank you," he said. "For everything."  
  
Carly nodded, not really sure what to say. This man had been held captive by Death Eaters, including his own brother, and watched a member of his family die; what could she say that would comfort him after all of that? "I'll check on you again soon."  
  
The stairwell was busy with staff and patients traveling up and down between floors four and five. Carly walked slowly and patiently behind s slow moving witch who was climbing the steps ahead of her when she heard a familiar voice.  
  
"You look knackered," George stepped up next to her, holding a folded tea towel to his head as they made their way up the stairs.  
  
"I just need about three pots of tea and an alertness potion," she said, "What have you done to your head?"  
  
"Sucker shot," he said with a shrug. "I should have paid more attention. One of the Death Eaters came to and knocked me down; I hit the edge of the counter as I went down."  
  
They had reached the top landing at last, and Carly pulled him aside and lifted the make shift bandage to reveal a large purple and black lump with a nasty gash in the center of it.  
  
"You must have the mother of all headaches. Did you black out when it happened?" Carly reached into the pocket of her smock and retrieved a tube of orange ointment and dabbed it carefully on the gash, then added a gray glue-like substance on top of that.  
  
"Yes I do, and yes I did," George nodded.  
  
"Uh-huh," she poured a measure of pain relieving potion into a small cup and passed it over to him. "Drink this."  
  
George grimaced as the bitter liquid went down, then nodded as the throbbing in his head eased back to a dull ache and then dissipated.  
  
"That's probably the best treatment you're going to get for now. Bill, Fred and your Mum are down on the fourth floor in a small cubicle, all doing fine. You can go down and see them if you want."  
  
"Thanks," George said. He bent down to kiss her on the forehead, then went back the way he came, leaving her to her work. 


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter Twenty-One**  
  
The scene was almost secure. Suzette, Nigel, Arthur and George had worked together to bind the four Death Eaters that had been knocked out in the battle, and took their wands. The bodies of Percy and one other Death Eater had been laid next to each other by a far wall, and covered with sheets. The house had been searched from top to bottom for clues, but no trace of the homeowners could be found. Whether they had lent their house willingly for tonight's escapade or not remained to be determined, but there were no other bodies in residence.  
  
Carly and Fred had left for St. Mungo's, followed closely by Bill and Molly. Rowan and Mundungus had gone to find out why the MLE had not been around when they had been needed; Nigel had sent out an owl moments before he had left for this place. Mundungus had returned only thirty minutes after he'd left to tell them that this house was only one of dozens of attack sites all over Britain, and that Aurors and MLE were spread thin while trying to deal with it all. Rowan had gone to the Daily Prophet to try to gather some news and get an idea of the extent of tonight's Death Eater attacks. She had sent word with Dung that she would go from the Prophet to St. Mungo's as soon as she could. George knew that she would be very busy over the next few hours if Dung's news was true. So would Rowan.  
  
Arthur pulled Dung aside and asked him to go to Dumbledore at Hogwarts to report what had happened, and to get further instructions from him. As Arthur was talking to Dung, George spoke quietly to Suzette and Nigel.  
  
"Thank you both for everything you've done," he said sincerely. "I don't know how you came to be the ones that came to rescue us, but if not for you, we would have all been killed."  
  
Suzette had tears in her eyes, and Nigel simply laid a comforting hand on his arm.  
  
"I need to ask you to leave my father and I alone for a while. Things are secure here, and the MLE should get around to us soon. I need to have some time with my Dad to talk about...things," He said softly, pain evident in his voice. "If things are as bad as they sound, St. Mungo's is going to need all the help they can get."  
  
"Of course," Suzette said sadly. "We will check on Molly and Fred and Bill, then stay and help out there in any way we can."  
  
"We'll regroup there once everything is said and done," Nigel said, leading his wife over to the door. "Take care."  
  
Suzette stepped forward to embrace him for a moment and kissed his cheek, then raised a hand in farewell to Arthur. He nodded, and watched them depart. Mundungus was on his way out as well, and merely nodded to George, his mind already on the tasks ahead of him. Once the door was closed, there were just the disabled Death Eaters, Arthur and George. Without words they righted a bench that had gone along side the table, and sat down next to one another.  
  
"I don't know what to say, Dad," George said quietly, his voice unsteady with emotion. "There's just too much, and none of it makes any kind of sense. I lost a brother tonight – you lost a son." The tears were falling now, unchecked. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Arthur took his son into his arms and they rocked slightly together. He let his own tears fall, and mourned for everything that had come to pass over the past two hours. "There's nothing for you to be sorry for," he finally said, pulling away so that he could look George in the eye. "Nothing."  
  
"If I had gone easier on him; left him alone when he told me too...." George said sadly, remembering the things that Percy had said just moments before his life was taken. "I never meant to hurt him."  
  
"I know you didn't, and it wouldn't have mattered, George," Arthur said sternly, holding his at arms length and shaking him once for emphasis. His momentary lapse into grief evaporated in the wake of his son's need for comfort and a jolt of reality. "What is, is, and we're going to have to work together as a family to deal with it. Percy chose his path, and it led him here. Asking 'what if' will only serve to drive us mad, and we need to be stronger and smarter than that. We are not going to blame ourselves; not now, not ever."  
  
George nodded. He knew that his father was right. He thought of his mother on the floor with her son, trying desperately to revive him, and fought back a wave of helpless rage that threatened to overtake him. He stood and began to pace the room, knowing that that the image would be burned into his memory forever, and wanting to something, anything to keep that from ever happening to anyone ever again. He could only imagine what his father must be suffering in all of this mess.  
  
He took a deep breath and worked hard to master himself, as his father was doing. There were so many things to be done now, he couldn't begin to fathom the work ahead of them all; he needed to pull himself together and make himself useful in any way he could. Taking another cleansing breath, he spun on his heel to face his father, when the nearest Death Eater on the floor regained his senses and shot out a let to trip George up. George tried to keep his balance, even as Mr. Weasley sprung to his feet with his wand in his had to stun the Death Eater responsible for the fall he could see his son about to make. George had twisted his body in an effort to give his father a clean shot at the bound man on the floor, and over-balanced, falling awkwardly until his head made sharp contact with the corner of the kitchen counter. Stars exploded behind his eyes, and then the world went black.  
  
When he came to, George was still lying on the kitchen floor, with his father leaning over him, pressing a tea towel to his head, which was very sore.  
  
"How many fingers am I holding up?" Arthur asked with a calm he didn't feel, surveying his son's eyes for signs of blurred vision or uneven pupil dilation.  
  
"Two," George answered, easing himself into a sitting position. "How long was I out?"  
  
"About thirty seconds," Arthur answered with obvious relief in his voice. "You've already got a nice bruise to go with that goose egg, and you're bleeding. It's St. Mungo's for you."  
  
"I'll be fine until the MLE gets here," George protested. He did not want to leave his father here alone.  
  
"Who knows how long that will take?" Arthur said, shaking his head. "You need a healer to look you over. You hit pretty hard, and I wouldn't want to take any chances."  
  
Only a moment later, a tired looking member of the MLE arrived in the doorway, wand drawn, followed closely by another. They surveyed the scene in front of them, taking in the bound and disabled Death Eaters, and the two red-haired men standing by the counter, then came all the way into the room.  
  
"Mr. Weasley, sir," one of the men said. It was evident that he knew Arthur, and that he respected him when he said, "It doesn't seem like you need much from us, except to take out the trash here." He nudged the newly stunned Death Eater with his toe in disgust. "They've got Azkaban back in order already, and so we're Port Keying any captured Death Eaters directly there."  
  
"What do you mean they've got Azkaban back in order?" Arthur asked warily.  
  
"Sorry. You wouldn't know, would you? There were attacks all over the country tonight," the man answered, while his partner inspected the bound men on the floor. "But the main event seems to have been at Azkaban. Almost every man on duty there was killed or stunned – only three of them got to the Apparition point in time to save themselves. Every single last prisoner was freed and now the prison is empty. They've rebuilt the wards around the island and are going to be allowing prisoners in for now, but it's a right mess. We've got to put them somewhere, though, and that seems to be the only place, really. We still haven't learned how they gained entrance in the first place, but we will. In the meantime, we've got a hell of a lot of messes to clean up."  
  
"We've got two dead here, Stewart," the man's partner said, pulling back the sheets that were covering Percy and his companion.  
  
"Bloody Hell, Arthur," Stewart replied as he looked at the two bodies. "I'm so sorry."  
  
Stewart's companion noted the red hair and Death Eater's robes on the young man in front of him and his expression hardened. George met his gaze steadily, and said; "I don't think my brother poses a threat to the community anymore, officer. I think that our family would like to take him home and give him a proper burial."  
  
Arthur looked up at George with a bright sheen of tears, but definite pride in his eyes and nodded when Stewart looked at him questioningly. The other man just placed a hand on Arthur's shoulder and said, "Okay."  
  
"But," the other man began to protest, but was cut off.  
  
"Michael, that boy isn't going to tell us anything. Let his family have him."  
  
George removed the tea towel from his head when he felt the blood begin to seep through, and folded it into a more compact bandage and replacing it. He head was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and his vision occasionally went gray.  
  
"You should be heading to St. Mungo's," Stewart said, noting the nasty wound on George's head.  
  
"Go on, son," Arthur urged. "There's nothing more you can do here. I'll give these gentleman a description of what happened, and make any arrangements that need to be made." He steered George toward the fireplace and kept his voice low as he said, "I'll come to St. Mungo's when I'm done here, and after I've checked in with the Order. Get yourself fixed up, then go and check on your mother and Fred and Bill. I'll be there as soon as I can."  
  
"Be careful, Dad," George said. "This might not be over yet."  
  
Arthur nodded and threw some Floo Powder into the fireplace and George stepped in calling out, "St. Mungo's Hospital!" and was gone.  
  
Arthur removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, leaning heavily on the mantle above the hearth. He was desperately tired, and he knew that sleep was a long, long way off. He needed to give the MLE an explanation of the night's events without giving away any information about the Order. It would be simple enough to tell them that Dumbledore had contacted him about Percy because he was his son and it was a family matter. That would suffice for now until he could speak with Dumbledore himself.  
  
In the end, it was easy enough. The MLE were so busy this night that they didn't have time to do much more than take down the bare facts and ask Arthur to make a full written report as soon as possible. The bound Death Eaters were sent to Azkaban via a port key made from the kitchen bench, and the Dead were sent to the morgue at St. Mungo's for the time being. Arrangements for Percy's remains could be made in the coming day or two.  
  
Arthur watched as Stewart and Michael walked to the edge of the property until they were past the wards and could Disapparate to the next crime scene. He had a moment when his control slipped, and a sob escaped him, but he swallowed it quickly and steeled himself for what came next. He walked into the frigid night, and Disapparated to the street outside of number twelve, Grimmauld Place.  
  
The front door opened the minute he approached it, and Arthur was surprised to see Mundungus waiting there. He stepped inside and Dung followed him to the kitchen, where Hestia Jones was seated at the long table writing something on a roll of parchment. She looked up when he entered, and gave him a sad smile.  
  
"Arthur," she said softly. "How are you holding up?"  
  
Dung was busying himself at the stove pouring tea into a cup.  
  
"As well as I can," Arthur answered.  
  
Mundungus handed him a teacup and said, "There's a Strengthening Solution in it, so it'll be a bit bitter, but it'll keep yer on yer feet."  
  
Arthur gulped the foul tasting brew gratefully, and set the cup on the table. "What news?"  
  
"It's too early to tell just yet," Hestia said tiredly. "But preliminary reports say that the largest number of casualties was at Azkaban Prison. Second largest looks like it took place in Hogsmeade, at The Three Broomsticks where there was a large Halloween gathering taking place. Some of the Order made it there to help, but we were mostly concentrating on the school, and the Death Eaters did a lot of damage before any real show of force could arrive."  
  
"Any instructions from Dumbledore?" Arthur asked as he absorbed the news that Ron, Ginny and Harry were safe at Hogwarts.  
  
"Yes," Hestia said calmly. "Go to your family. The Order can handle things for the rest of the night without you. One of us will contact you tomorrow...today. "  
  
The clock on the wall was reading well past two in the morning. Arthur thought of his wife and sons at St. Mungo's, and reluctantly nodded. His place was with them; he only had two more concerns to take care of before he could go and check on them. I need to contact my other children... they need to know about Percy," he said quietly.  
  
"Dumbledore will see to it that Ron and Ginny are told. He or Minerva will see to it personally. There are other students at the school who have lost loved ones tonight as well. Arrangements will be made for students to take leave from school, and transport them all safely to their homes. If you'd like to send them an owl..." Hestia said gently.  
  
"I'll write to them once I get to St. Mungo's and have more news about how everyone is doing," Arthur said. "I'll need to contact Charlie."  
  
"Of course," she nodded. "The fireplace in the sitting room would probably be the best place."  
  
Arthur turned and left the kitchen. The Strengthening Solution was working it's magic, and while the weight of grief was still heavy on his heart, he no longer felt as if he were going to drop where he stood from exhaustion. He reached the sitting room and pulled the wand from his pocket. It felt strange in his hand, and he realized that his own wand had been taken earlier in the night and that he still had Fred's. He pointed it at the empty fireplace and muttered, "Incendio!" Flames sprang to life in the grate, and Arthur lowered himself to his knees in front of it, dreading having to tell Charlie this news. He found the pot of powder on the bricks beside the fire and took a pinch, tossing it into the flames. "Charlie Weasley, Romanian Dragon Reserve," he said clearly and loudly as the flames turned green, then he closed his eyes and stuck his head into the flames.  
  
Charlie's home was a simply furnished two-room cottage. Arthur looked from the flames into the main room and saw his son sitting at the scrubbed wooden table in the center of the room, fully dressed and with a quill in his hand. He was clearly writing something, but looked up when the flames in his grate turned green.  
  
"Charlie," Arthur said. As he met his son's eyes, it was evident that he had already heard the news. 


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-Two  
  
"Charlie is making the arrangements to come home," Arthur told Dung as he emerged from the sitting room, wiping fresh tears from his eyes. "Dumbledore had already contacted him; he should arrive tonight, and I told him to go straight to the Burrow for the time being."  
  
Mundungus nodded and said, "Go to Molly now, Arthur. We'll see to things here; I'll see to it that Dumbledore knows where everyone is. Just go."  
  
"Okay," Arthur said. "Keep me posted on anything that comes up."  
  
He left Headquarters by the back door, and Apparated from the back garden into the Apparition point of St. Mungo's Lobby. There were a lot of people waiting, while a Healer seemed to be slowly making his way around the room, evaluating patients. There was a sign posted that re-directed patients to which floor was treating what type of injuries. Arthur took a place in line to talk to the Welcome Witch, and waited until it was his turn. He was surprised to find Suzette Winters sitting behind the counter,  
  
"Arthur!" she said with a gentle smile. "I'm so glad to see you here at last. I was beginning to worry! Molly, Fred, Bill and George are all on the fourth floor, in cubicle twelve."  
  
"Thank you," he answered. "I'm glad to see you made it here as well."  
  
"Nigel and I are lending a hand until things become manageable here," she said. "Let's hope that time will come very soon."  
  
Arthur nodded and let her get back to helping the others that had joined the line behind him. He mounted the stairs and just put one foot in front of the other while his mind was elsewhere. His conversation with Charlie, while brief, and been emotionally taxing. He was leaving his job immediately to come home to work for the Order. The Dragons were important to him, but his need to be at home with his family was greater. Arthur's family's mettle was being tested, and while he knew that they would come out on the other side of this stronger, it would be a hard journey. The first step of the journey would be to re-group and to grieve for their loss. It was very important to Arthur that none of them feel like they held any blame for what happened to Percy. He felt the heavy weight of guilt himself, and did not want it to become a burden that any of his children, or his wife bore.  
  
He found the small room where his family waited. It was quiet, and dimly lit as he saw that Molly and Fred were sleeping. Bill was sitting up at one end of a chaise, and George sat next to him, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts. George was eyeing the wound on his brother's shoulder with a furrow in his brow, but looked up when his father entered the room.  
  
'_It's strange_,' George thought, '_how disconnected I feel now that I've had a chance to sit and think about everything that's happened tonight_.'  
  
Since he had gotten patched up by Carly and had come down here, he and Bill had hardly spoken to each other at all. It was as if it was all too big to put into words, and so they weren't even going to try. Fred was still out cold while the potions did their work, and his mother, thankfully, was also sleeping. He wondered if it would be worse for her when she woke up; the sudden remembering that washes over the few moments after you wake after a big event. It was one of the reasons he'd refused Bill's offer to let him use the chaise to rest. He suspected that it was the reason that Bill was forcing himself to stay awake as well.  
  
"Dad," Bill said, standing up.  
  
"Percy's been sent here to the morgue for the time being," Arthur said without preamble. "Charlie is preparing to come home right now, and Dumbledore is making arrangements for those students to need leave from school to get home. I'd say Ron and Ginny should be home in the next few hours. The Order hasn't all checked in yet, but the heaviest hits were apparently at Azkaban and Hogsmeade. They never even made an attempt on the school."  
  
Bill and George nodded.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Weasley," Carly said quietly from the doorway. "I was just coming to check on everyone. I've got a twenty minute break."  
  
"I'm fine, my dear," Arthur said, putting a welcoming arm around her. "Thanks to you and your family. I actually ran into your Aunt Suzette in the lobby."  
  
"Mr. Weasley," Carly asked calmly and quietly. "What is 'The Order'?"  
  
Everyone fell silent at this question, until a hoarse voice came from Fred. "It's a secret."  
  
All eyes turned to him, and Carly was immediately at his side, checking him over. "You should still be sleeping," she admonished. "That curse did quite a good bit of damage."  
  
"I'm doing fine," he growled sleepily. "That nasty potion's keeping the pain at bay."  
  
"Carly," George said. "We can't tell you what the Order is right now."  
  
She met his gaze levelly, and stared at him for a moment before nodding. She would let this matter go for the time being, but she wouldn't forget to ask again when things were less hectic, and she had Rowan around to back her up.  
  
"Don't worry," Fred assured her, capturing her one of her hands with his good one. "They're the good guys."  
  
"So you're not one of them?" she asked.  
  
"Not officially," he said. "That's all I can tell you for now. I promise you'll be told all about it later." He looked up at his father as he said this part, and Carly looked up, too.  
  
"Right," Arthur said. "But for now, there's more to be done. I need to write to Ron and Ginny. They'll be easier knowing that the rest of us are safe and sound. Bill, I think you'll probably be wanting to check on Fleur at her parent's place, and then, I don't like asking you to do this, but we're going to need to see to Percy... arrangements will need to be started. I'd like to have as much of the preparations for his burial handled before your Mum wakes."  
  
Bill nodded and said, "I'll see to it, Dad." He stood and hugged his father, and kissed Carly's cheek before departing.  
  
"George," Arthur continued as Bill walked out. "I would be grateful if you could go back to the Burrow to be there when Charlie arrives. Then you should check in with Rowan; let her know were her family is. I don't want anyone going anywhere on his or her own after this if it can possibly be avoided. You can both come back here after that, if you're up to it. I think Charlie will want to check on Fred and Molly himself."  
  
"You got it, Dad," George said. He stood and his and Fred's eyes met. They communicated without words that each would be fine, and then George walked over to the other bed and kissed Molly's forehead, turned and walked out.  
  
"Fred, Carly," Arthur continued, "Can you think of anyone else that needs to be contacted right now? Anyone you need to check on?"  
  
"My parents won't have heard about all this so soon," Carly said. "And aside from your family and Aunt Suzette and Uncle Nigel, everyone else I know works here."  
  
"No," Fred said tiredly. "Mrs. Dunbar - Eunice, Carly's neighbor. And Lee."  
  
"Oh no!" Carly said. "I didn't even think about poor Eunice! I'll go Floo her as soon as I leave here, to let her know we're all right."  
  
"Right," Arthur said. "I'll send Lee an owl if I can find any available. I'm going to go find some parchment and a quill."  
  
Fred watched his father go, and then brought Carly's hand to his lips. "Scared me," he said quietly. "Bill told me what happened after I blacked out while they were patching me up."  
  
"You scared me too," she said. "I'm having a hard time realizing it all really happened."  
  
"I think we're all going to feel that way for a while, yet," he said. His gaze fell over to his mother, who was still sleeping dreamlessly. "I'm worried about her."  
  
"Your mother is a strong woman," Carly said steadily. "She's a very capable witch, and she'll pull through this. We all will, because we'll help each other; that's the way a family works."  
  
Fred smiled a bit at her fervor, and at the fact that she unconsciously included herself in his family. "Yes it is," he agreed.  
  
"Well I'm going to have to get going if I'm going to Floo Eunice before I get back to work," Carly said reluctantly, leaning down to give him a soft kiss. "Things are starting to slow down, so I should be able to get some sleep in a couple of hours. I'll come back and stretch out in here with you all then."  
  
Fred nodded, and was planning on slipping back into the sleep he'd been fighting off when his father returned with a roll of parchment and a quill and ink. Carly stopped to have a word with him, when Bill came back. Before Bill had a chance to say anything, Charlie, George and Rowan came in, and all of them were out of breath. It was immediately evident that something was wrong, and Fred sat up, despite the pain in his shoulder, and swung his feet to the floor.  
  
"What is it?" came Molly's weak voice from the direction of her bed. Every head in the room swiveled to see Molly's eyes were open and alert. She actually looked well rested, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that she was perfectly aware of everything that had transpired that night before she'd been taken to St. Mungo's.  
  
"What's happened?" she asked, her voice gaining strength.  
  
Carly was already at her side, checking her over, but Molly was not to be distracted. All eyes turned back to Charlie, George and Rowan, and finally Charlie took at deep breath.  
  
"It's the Burrow," he said heavily. "It's gone. It's been completely destroyed. The Dark Mark was fading from the sky above just as I arrived." 


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

A stunned silence met this extraordinary announcement. Fred broke it with a succinct swear, followed by his prompt collapse onto the floor when he tried to stand on legs too wobbly to support him. Carly rushed over to his side, and she and Bill lifted him back to the bed as Molly sat up herself and said, "Fred, don't be stupid. Stay in bed before you hurt yourself even more."  
  
"Tell us exactly what happened," Arthur said, shaken by yet another blow to his family.  
  
"I went to meet Charlie," George said, his breath still coming short. "I Apparated to the front garden of the Burrow, and found it in splinters. Just... like it had been picked up into the air and thrown back down to earth. The Dark Mark was hanging in the air over the wreckage, making everything look green in its light. There was no one around that I could see, but I didn't want to take any chances, so I hid against the big tree by the workshop, but there was no movement around at all. Rowan showed up just a few moments later, and so I came out, and then Charlie showed up a second after that. We all just sat there for a moment, watching the Mark fade, kind of stunned, you know? Then we all Apparated here to come and tell you what had happened."  
  
Charlie and Rowan were nodding their agreement with George's account. Arthur's face was impassive, as if he had ruthlessly shut off his emotions because they had become too much to control. Molly's lips were a thin white line, and there were tears in her eyes, but she stayed calm. Fred looked livid, Bill looked distant and Charlie and George still wore looks of disbelief.  
  
"What are we going to do now?" Charlie asked everyone in the room in general.  
  
Arthur turned to look to his wife, and a message seemed to pass between them before Molly said calmly, "We'll rebuild, of course. There isn't a single item in that house that can't be replaced as long as the rest of us are safe. In the meantime, the authorities will need to be notified. If any Muggles from the village spotted Death Eaters or the Dark Mark, the Obliviators will have to be called out to modify memories." Her practicality seemed to be taking over as she absorbed the news that she was now homeless. "We'll have to notify Dumbledore as well. Ron and Ginny..."  
  
"He's already told them about Percy," Arthur said gently. "He is going to arrange for those students who lost family members tonight to take Port Keys to their homes. We'll just have them sent somewhere else." Molly looked thoughtful for a moment, and Fred knew that she was thinking of Grimmauld Place; he wondered if she'd picked up on the implications of what his dad had meant by "those students who lost family members."  
  
"Molly," Carly said timidly. "I don't want to intrude into family business, but -"  
  
"Don't be silly dear," Molly said, not quite managing a smile. "You are family."  
  
"Thank you. That means more to me than I can say; and as family, I'm sure that you and anyone else in this family who needs a place to stay will be welcome at my Aunt and Uncle's house until you figure out what exactly is going on."  
  
"That's right," Rowan agreed, losing some of the shocked look that she'd been wearing since her arrival. "Their house is huge. There are at least six bedrooms that sit empty most of the time. They'll be delighted to have a way to help out."  
  
"That's very kind of you, girls. We may very well take you up on the offer while we make plans." Molly said kindly.  
  
Carly breathed a sigh of relief, and said, "Now that you're all here together, I think that it's up to me as a Healer-In-Training to tell you all that you need to sleep. I'm about to send my Aunt and Uncle home to get some rest, and I think that Charlie, Bill, Rowan and George should go with them. They can all get a few hours sleep there, while Molly and Fred get the rest they need here. Both of them have taken potions that should have had them sleeping for at least another few hours, and they need to quit fighting it. Arthur can write his letter and finish any business he still has left, and then he can stay here with Molly and Fred. There really isn't anything more that can be done tonight that couldn't be done when the sun comes up."  
  
"What about you?" Fred asked her.  
  
"I've got work to do still," she said simply. "The worst of it is over for now, I think, so I should be able to get a few hours sleep myself soon."  
  
Everyone saw the logic of Carly's suggestion, and Rowan led the group out to go and find her Aunt and Uncle. Arthur sat beside Molly to write his letters to Dumbledore and to Ron and Ginny. Carly made sure that both Fred and Molly were comfortable before leaving to Floo her neighbor and returning to her duties. She hid the tears that had been threatening until she was well out of sight and hearing distance of their room. She stepped into a small alcove near the stairwell and allowed a few tears to escape, just to relieve some of the tension built up inside of her chest. Once she was no longer needed by just about everyone she came across, she would allow herself a nice long crying jag and the sleep she so desperately needed. Wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her robes, she stepped back out into the corridor and made her rounds to check on those she had treated earlier before she released them to go home – if they still had a home.  
  
Rowan bit her lip as she, and the three Weasley men reached the hospital lobby. She could feel the bottled up grief, fear and sadness that Carly was struggling to keep in, and knew that if her sister didn't get some rest soon, she would have to come and fetch her and make her. Her exhaustion was wearing her down, just as Rowan's was. When both of them had emotions running so high that it was impossible to tell what feelings belonged to which of them. The best cure, Rowan knew, would be for them to lock themselves together in a room and just let their tears come while they consoled one another. She feared that the opportunity to do that was still a long way off, but it would come; but for now she had a job to do. She needed to get her family, new and old, back to the Winters' estate and into bed. She would allow herself a couple of hours rest, and then she would commit the article already in her head onto parchment for that day's Evening Prophet.  
  
Back in the small room, Fred had lain down once more and was almost asleep; the monotonous scratching of his dad's quill was serving to lull him to sleep. He was awake, but kept his eyes closed when he heard his mother whisper.  
  
"Arthur."  
  
The scratching of quill on parchment ceased immediately, and Fred could hear the rustling of his father's robs as he turned to face his wife. "Yes dear?" There was such tenderness in his father's voice that it brought a prick of tears back to Fred's eyes, but he kept them determinedly closed. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had watched his parents dancing lovingly together at that Halloween party.  
  
"You said that Dumbledore was arranging for those students who lost family members. How bad has it been? Did they attack the school?"  
  
"No!" he assured her quickly. "The school was left untouched. There were attacks all over Britain, though, and many casualties. Azkaban was emptied. I'm afraid that the war has well and truly begun."  
  
"Well it's no more than we expected, is it?" Molly said staunchly. "We weathered the storm last time, and we'll do it again."  
  
"We've lost so much, Molly," came Arthur's quiet, tear-filled voice. "We have a lot of work ahead of us."  
  
"That's true," Molly said, her tone sad. "We'll just have to take things one step at a time. The first step is to gather the family together and to bury our son."  
  
Her voice wobbled a bit, and Arthur stifled a sob. Fred could see, in his mind's eye, Percy's lifeless brother crumpled on the floor of that kitchen while a battle raged around him. He felt anger building up inside of him at the thought of the torture his parents must be enduring, having to cope with such a heavy loss and still having to worry about the rest of their children at the same time. How would Bill live the rest of his life with the vision of Percy holding his wand over him, preparing to administer a killing curse? 'Damn you, Percy, for being so stupid!'  
  
"Bill's been looking into the initial preparations." Arthur sniffed, and Fred had the urge to go to his parents and throw his arms around them in comfort, but couldn't bring himself to interrupt such a private moment. "We'll lay him to rest in the village cemetery, where we can be close."  
  
Molly made no verbal reply to this, and so Fred imagined that she must have nodded in agreement. "This will be hard on the children." She said. "First their brother, and now their home. They shouldn't have to bear this type of burden."  
  
"They're good kids," Arthur said, his voice strengthening. "They're strong, and they'll pull together and help each other through. We can't let them blame themselves."  
  
"No," Molly agreed. "And some of them will, at least a little. What should we do about the house?"  
  
"I don't know," Arthur said heavily. "But we definitely don't have enough money to completely rebuild."  
  
"We'll get by," Molly said sleepily. "We always do."  
  
"Of course," Arthur said. "Now get back to sleep."  
  
"You need some sleep as well," Molly yawned.  
  
"I will, sweetheart," Arthur promised.  
  
Fred heard rustling again, and then the scratching of the quill began again once more. Before he could form another thought beyond, 'Mum and Dad need help with the house,' he was asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter twenty-four**  
  
George lay in the unfamiliar bed in the room he'd been given by Suzette, and stared blankly at the ceiling. He guessed that Bill and Charlie were probably still awake as well, in the next room, discussing everything that had happened. George knew that Charlie wouldn't' be able to rest until he was told the whole story, but that was a job that Bill could handle. Sleep felt as if it was still a long way off, even though he hadn't had any for the past - he didn't know how long. It seemed like days. The other bed in the room was made neatly, and he wondered how long it would be until Fred was released from St. Mungo's. The sun was only a couple of hours from making its appearance on the horizon. Today hadn't even really begun, and yet he'd already lost a brother, and nearly lost two others, fought in a duel with Death Eaters, shed tears of grief, knocked himself unconscious, been treated at St. Mungo's, and arrived at his childhood home to find it utterly ruined. He wondered what the rest of the day would bring; it seemed as if his entire world had been redefined overnight.  
  
He wondered what would become of the shop now; would it ever seem like a good idea to pull pranks and sell trick sweets again? He honestly didn't know the answer to that. Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had been his and Fred's life-long dream, and they had made it a reality less than a year ago. What else could they really do? He and Fred were determined to do their part for the Order, but that wouldn't earn them a living. They were supposed to have had a talk today, to discuss everything that they had on their minds of late, but now that would have to be put on hold until things calmed down a little. With a jaw-cracking yawn, George thanked the Powers That Be that the things hadn't turned out worse than they had (and they could have been worse), and prayed that the worst was behind them for now. As the first signs of sunrise shot the sky with pink and gold, George's eyes felt heavy-lidded at last, and he fell into an uneasy sleep.  
  
Fred woke up from a strange dream where he had been wandering aimlessly through the deserted streets of Diagon Alley, searching for any other sign of human life, but not finding any. As he opened his eyes, and all of the memories of the previous night came back to him, he thought, '_It doesn't take a genius to interpret that dream, now does it?_' He was still tired, but gingerly sat up to take a look around him.  
  
The first sight that met his gaze was that of Carly, still in her lime green smock, with dark smudges of exhaustion shadowing her eyes. She was fast asleep; lying facing him, on the chaise that was shoved between his bed, and the other one where is his mother lay sleeping. He had no idea how long it had been since she had finally gotten the opportunity to rest, and so he was careful not to wake her as he swung his feet off of the narrow bed and onto the floor. He was dress only in pajama bottoms, and his shoulder was wrapped in a fresh bandage that he didn't remember having changed. He had a pressing need to find a bathroom, and so he prayed that his legs would support him as he got to his feet. He felt very weak, but not completely unable to walk. He shuffled to the doorway and looked down the corridor each way to see if there was a sign that would direct him, and luckily found one only about halfway down the hall to his right. He had just started to make his way slowly out, when his father rounded a corner, and spotted him.  
  
"Let me help you," he said. It must have been pretty obvious where he had been heading, because his Dad simply walked him to the door of the bathroom and told him he would wait for him in the hall.  
  
As they made their way slowly back to the tiny room where Carly and Molly still slept, Fred asked his father, "Have you slept at all?"  
  
"Not nearly enough," he admitted tiredly. "But I did manage to get about three hours in. Things at the ministry are in an uproar, as you can imagine, and I needed to check in with Madam Bones."  
  
"Where's Mr. Sharpe?" Fred asked, speaking of the newest Head of Magical Law Enforcement. He had taken over the department when Madam Bones had taken over as acting Minister for Magic.  
  
"He was one of the ones lost at Azkaban last night," Arthur said grimly, helping Fred back to his bed. "The Minister has asked me to take his place. I told her about our own crisis, and she's given me twenty-four hours to come to a decision and report back to work."  
  
"Twenty-four hours!" Fred exclaimed as quietly as he could manage, "After all that's..."  
  
"I know, Fred," Arthur said calmly. "But we lost a lot of important people last night, and the Ministry needs to get back on track as quickly and as smoothly as possible to prevent a wave of panic all over the country."  
  
"You're going to take the job?" Fred asked.  
  
"I intend to, yes. Unless Molly has any strong objection, of course."  
  
"I'm proud of you dad," Fred answered seriously, after only a moment's pause. "I'll do everything I can to help out with the things that you're going to be too tied up to take care of. We all will."  
  
"Thank you, Fred," Arthur smiled softly. "I know you will."  
  
A Healer entered the room just then, and frowned down at the sight of Carly, asleep in a patient's room, but said nothing but "I told her to go home."  
  
"She wanted to be here with her family," Fred said quietly and firmly.  
  
He looked at Fred appraisingly and nodded. It seemed to the Healer, that despite the fact that their hair color matched; there was more than a family bond at work between his young apprentice and the man on the bed. "As long as she gets some quality rest, I won't complain. She was asleep on her feet." He turned to Arthur then, and said, "Your wife doesn't appear to have anything physically wrong with her. She can be discharged when she wakes up, and I'll write up an order for some more Sleeping Draught in case she needs it later."  
  
"I won't need it," Molly said from her bed. She was sitting up and looked alert and well rested; her eyes were still haunted, but clear and direct as she looked at the Healer and her husband. "I don't want to be drugged."  
  
"Mrs. Weasley," the Healer addressed her calmly. "I'm Healer Jonah Swift. How are you feeling?"  
  
"I'm feeling well," she answered. "Just sad."  
  
"I think that is something to be expected," the Healer nodded, making a note on his chart, "But I'll write up an order, just in case."  
  
Arthur took the parchment from the Healer before Molly could protest, and thanked him. The Healer then turned the page on his chart and looked to the other bed. "Frederick?"  
  
"Fred will do," he answered with a scowl. Only his Mum used his full first name, and only when he was in seriously deep trouble with her. "When can I get out of here?"  
  
"You will be our guest for at least another day, I'm afraid," the Healer chuckled. "It appears that you were hit with a Reductor Curse, and it's done quite a bit of damage. There is a lot of muscle and tissue damage that's going to take some time to repair; even then you may experience some lost strength and dexterity in your left arm and hand."  
  
"But will I be able to play the piano?" Fred asked with a straight face as his parents rolled their eyes to the ceiling.  
  
"My first inclination is to say that, yes, you should be able to play. It's a bit too soon to be able to tell for sure." Healer Swift said with a furrowed brow.  
  
"That's great," Fred said with a smile. "I've never been able to play before!"  
  
Arthur and Molly groaned while the Healer paused in the act of writing something in his notes. He looked up a Fred with an uncertain expression, before saying, "Weasley.... Weasley; that sounds familiar."  
  
"He and his brother run a joke shop in Diagon Alley," Arthur supplied helpfully.  
  
"Ah! Yes, of course. I've had the pleasure of unknowingly sampling some of your wares at the hand of a good friend of mine. I'm still finding yellow feathers all over my study."  
  
Fred smiled proudly. Not only was he proud that a virtual stranger had recognized the Weasley name, but that his parents had both managed something resembling a weak chuckle.  
  
"So he has to stay another day?" Molly asked. She was sounding considerably more like her old self.  
  
"Yes," came the reply. "He'll need the wound cleaned, treated and dressed at least twice more today. In fact, someone should be coming in to take care of that momentarily. We'll make an evaluation in the morning as to whether or not he should be released."  
  
"Sorry, but I don't want to stay here. My family needs me, and I have a business that needs..." Fred began, but was interrupted by his mother.  
  
"Fred, your family needs you to get well. Now don't argue about it; George or Lee can see to the shop for a couple of days just fine without you there."  
  
"But what about...?" he was cut off again mid-sentence.  
  
"No arguments, Fred. I mean it! I will sit here personally and make sure you do as you're told if you don't agree right now to listen to Healer Swift." Molly's tone brooked no argument as she stood and came to shove him back down onto the narrow mattress. "Besides, Carly will be here."  
  
Fred opened his mouth to protest once more, just for good form, but Molly silenced him with a stern look. With a last glance at Carly, sleeping soundly through the entire exchange, he relented with a sulky, "Yes ma'am." Inwardly he thought to himself that acting petulant and stubborn was one way to get his mother's mind onto something other than her grief. He knew that she dealt best with a crisis by keeping herself busy. While he doubted that she would want to work in the shop as she had before when Percy had been listed as a Death Eater, he thought that having her family around her to boss around would work their magic on her in time. 


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-five**  
  
It was mid afternoon when George woke. Sunlight was streaming in through the window of his room. A small carriage clock on the mantle of the room's fireplace told him the time, and he couldn't believe he'd actually slept as long as he had. He still felt tired, but forced himself to his feet and padded over to a washbasin and pitcher that had been left there for his use. The cool water he splashed on hid face was a far cry from the shower he really needed, but it would do for now. He wanted to go to the shop and put a notice in the window telling their customers that they would be closed until further notice, and to collect some personal items. He would need clean robes to change into, and so would Fred; Fred's had been destroyed in the battle, and he was currently wearing the hospital pajama bottoms that had been given him when he was admitted.  
  
It felt weird to be dressing by putting on soiled, borrowed robes more suited to the party they had left the previous evening, but he didn't have much choice. He used his wand to air them out a bit before shrugging into them, and once dressed, left the privacy of his room to find out if anyone else was awake. Arthur had told him that they weren't to travel anywhere without a companion unless it was absolutely necessary, so he would have to see if Bill, Charlie or Rowan was available to take the trip to Diagon Alley with him. He guessed that Bill would be the one to go with him, as he needed to acquire a new wand after last night, and would probably need to check in at the bank where he worked. He wondered idly if Goblins would be sympathetic to the plight of his family and give Bill a few days off for bereavement.  
  
There were sounds of dishes clinking and the low rumble of voices coming from the kitchen, and so George pushed the door open and peeked in, hoping he wasn't disturbing any private conversations. When he saw that it was Bill and Charlie, he pushed the door all the way open and walked inside. A tiny house elf beamed up at George and squeaked, "Come in, come in young master!"  
  
George smiled down at the little female elf, who was clad in a clean and neatly pressed tea towel, and said, "Good morning Toolah. It's nice to see you again; how are you?"  
  
"I is seeing to some food for all of the nice young masters that Mistress Rowan is bringing to stay!" she answered happily. "You just sit right there and let me fix you up with some tea and sandwiches."  
  
"Hey guys," George said by way of greeting as he joined his brothers at the scrubbed kitchen table. "Been up long?"  
  
Bill and Charlie both had blood-shot eyes and both were sporting a day or two's worth of stubble on their chins. George guessed that he must look just as bad. "No," Charlie answered. "Only about twenty minutes. We're waiting to hear from Dad. He sent an owl saying that Mum has been released, but they're keeping Fred at St. Mungo's for at least another day. We're supposed to stay put."  
  
"Uh-huh," George said heavily, gratefully accepting the tea that Toolah brought him. "I need to go to Diagon Alley. I've got to check on the shop and get some fresh clothes together. You guys want to go?"  
  
"Yeah," Charlie said, reaching into the pocket of his robes and withdrawing a small silver flask. He passed it to George, who poured a generous amount of the caramel colored liquid into his tea and passed it back to his brother, who took a swig straight from the flask before returning it to his pocket. George's first sip confirmed that it was brandy, and after a grimace at the taste, drank some more.  
  
"I need to go there, too, "Bill agreed, looking slightly put out that the brandy hadn't traveled back to him, despite the fact that he already had a hefty dose of it in his tea. "I expect things will be in an uproar at the bank; either that, or it will be dead quiet. It's always hard to tell how people will react to something like this. At any rate, I'm in. I've got to get to Ollivanders and replace my wand; he should know what type of wands Mum and Dad use, and we could see about getting them new ones or having them made."  
  
Toolah set three plates piled high with food in front of the brothers and scowled at them all – especially Fred. He stopped with his doctored tea halfway to his lips and asked, "What's the matter, Toolah?"  
  
"You three is aught to be listening to your father! You is to be staying here until you hear from him!" scolded the elf, obviously having listened in to their conversation.  
  
The three men had the grace to look bashful at her comment, and nodded obediently as they began to eat. It was a relief that their parents arrived, just as they finished their meal, making it easier for them to leave the house without an over protective house elf snapping at their heels.  
  
They all hugged their mother as soon as she came in, and sat down again to hear any more news that they might have to impart.  
  
"Well we've been to see the house," Molly said in a matter of fact tone. "It's pretty much a complete loss, but we'll still have to sort through the rubble to make sure that nothing magical accidentally gets vanished off to a Muggle land fill."  
  
"That can wait for a while," Arthur said. "We've put more wards in place to keep any Muggles from wandering around, and we're pretty sure no one in the village has any idea that there's even a family that lived there, so that's taken care of. We made arrangements for Percy to be buried at the Ottery St. Catchpole cemetery the day after tomorrow. Your Mum and I would like to have him close to us."  
  
All three nodded in understanding.  
  
"Ron, Ginny and Harry will be arriving here by portkey this evening. Hermione may be coming as well, but Dumbledore needs to get permission from her parents, and frankly, I wouldn't blame them if they said no," Molly told them. "Fred should be released from St. Mungo's sometime tomorrow."  
  
"One more thing you boys need to be aware of," Arthur said. "I've discussed it with your Mum, and I have decided to accept a position – at least temporarily – as Head of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry. We lost Sharpe yesterday to the Azkaban break, and they need someone as soon as possible. I'll start tomorrow and will be able to take time for Percy's funeral, but then I'll be gone a lot; at least at first."  
  
All three of them looked surprised at this news, but then broke into grins. "You'll be brilliant at it, Dad," George said sincerely as the others nodded.  
  
"Thank you, boys, but my absence is going to put a lot of extra burden on your mother and you all to keep things going."  
  
"You can count on us, Dad," Bill said sincerely. "We'll take good care of Mum."  
  
"And Mum will take good care of us," Charlie added, putting an arm around her.  
  
"We'll all be taking care of each other," Molly said firmly. "I would especially like it if the you four boys could take some time to talk things out with Ron and Ginny. This is going to be hard on them, having been away at Hogwarts and all... they don't know about the house. We thought it best if the news came from us instead of Dumbledore or McGonagall."  
  
"Of course," Charlie said. "Don't worry."  
  
"Mum," George said. "We were all about to go to Diagon Alley. Bill needs a new wand, and to check in at work, and Charlie needs new everything, having lived in Romania for so long. I need to check on the shop and to pick some fresh robes. Why don't you and Dad come with us? We can get you a new wand and some robes, and anything you can think of that you'll need for the next few days.  
  
"I think that I should come," Molly said thoughtfully. "But Arthur needs to go get some sleep."  
  
"Toolah will show Master George's father to the guest room she has all prepared for him!" The elf said cheerfully, happy to have even more people to wait upon.  
  
Arthur nodded gratefully and followed the elf away, and the others all congregated in the drawing room before using Floo powder to travel to the Leaky Cauldron. Once there, they decided that the first order of business was to visit Gringotts. The three boys bullied Molly until she agreed that she wouldn't take any money out of her own vault; Bill claimed that he had not had much to spend his money on in Egypt, and Charlie said the same about Romania. George insisted that since she had never accepted a pay packet from working in the shop, that it was time she did so for past services rendered. When she had scowled at them all and looked as if she would protest further, Charlie simply said, "Let us do this, Mum. We promised Dad that we would look after you." She relented while dabbing at proud tears, and they left Bill to check on his work and promised to come back in an hour for him.  
  
They walked through Diagon Alley toward Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, noting that there were still many shoppers going about their business, but it was quieter than usual, and people didn't seem as friendly and social as they normally did. As they reached the stained purple stoop, George was surprised to see the 'Open' sign displayed in the window and find the door unlocked. As they entered, it was in time to see Lee Jordan releasing an owl with a package tied to it's legs out of the small owl window behind the counter.  
  
"George!" Lee said in surprise. "I didn't expect to see you today, mate. You look bloody awful!"  
  
"Thanks, mate," George gave his friend a weary smile. "I did expect to see you either."  
  
Lee smiled uncertainly at Charlie and Molly, and then answered, "Well I figured after I got your Dad's owl, that I should at least come in and take care of any potions still brewing and send out any owl orders. While I was checking the orders, some customers came rattling the door and so I let them in. Can you believe that some of the people out there have no idea what's happened yet? We're certainly not overloaded with business today, but we're not as desolate as I expected. I figure it shouldn't be too hard to hold things down here for a few days. Until... you know."  
  
"Thanks," George said. "I appreciate it. You just close up whenever you need to. It's what I was going to do today, anyway."  
  
"Sure. How's Fred?"  
  
"He'll be out of hospital tomorrow. I just came to get some clothes. We're all staying at the Winters's for now."  
  
His eyes were full of questions, but Lee could tell that now was not the time to ask them. He nodded and said, "Okay."  
  
George jogged quickly up the stairs to his flat and quickly raided both Fred's and his own closets, and stuffed them haphazardly into an old battered suitcase. He used his wand to reduce it down to a size that would fit in his pocket, and then rejoined his Mum and Charlie. Charlie had never seen the shop before outside of photographs, and was wandering around looking at everything curiously, while his Mum was talking quietly with Lee. As he came down the stairs, they turned, and with a little pat on Lee's hand, Molly straightened and they all bid him good-bye as they went o complete their shopping. Since they'd lost almost everything, they went first to Madam Malkin's for new Robes for both Charlie and Molly. Bill had his own place with Fleur (who was in France at the moment visiting her family), so hadn't suffered much of a loss as far as possessions went with the Burrow was destroyed. George and Charlie waited until Molly was being measured before pulling another shop assistant aside and telling her to arrange for several sets of robes for their mother to be delivered to the Winters' home later that day.  
  
They knew that while she might accept basic items from her sons, she wouldn't agree to the scale at which they wanted to provide for her. She had, after all, recently lost everything. As luck would have it, the shop had Arthur's measurements on file, and so they were able to purchase some smart looking robes that befitted a man in his new position within the Ministry. Since their father wasn't there to protest, they decided that it would be the perfect time to make sure that he didn't go without for the sake of his children. Charlie was quickly measured, and he picked out a couple of set of robes to replace some of his own, which had become shabby while working with dragons.  
  
Once they were finished at Madam Malkin's, they returned to Gringotts to find out if Bill would be able to take any time off. He was harried looking as he approached them from a long corridor, and told them that it was a virtual madhouse there. He would be able to take time that day to go and buy a new wand, and then he would be given time off for Percy's funeral, but that otherwise, his availability would depend upon what was happening at the bank.  
  
"So people are panicking and withdrawing their money?" George asked as the hurried down the street toward Ollivander's.  
  
"That's the strange part," Bill said. "A lot of people are making huge deposits. There's a scramble to hire vaults to hold personal items. It seems that a major fear right now is looting by Death Eaters or other opportunists, and so people are coming to Gringotts to secure the valuables that they would normally keep hidden in their own homes."  
  
"That makes sense," Charlie said. "It 's the safest place I know of to keep stuff."  
  
They arrived at Ollivander's to find the proprietor behind the counter, wrapping a wand up for a wizard who looked as though he'd been a rough fight. He nodded curtly to the Weasley family as he left the shop, and they were all thinking the same thing: One more victim of the attacks.  
  
"Terrible! Terrible!" Ollivander exclaimed as they stepped up to the counter. "So many wands lost! I suppose that they were being collected for use by those who escaped Azkaban."  
  
It dawned on George that the pattern of attacks last night had been brilliantly executed. They served multiple purposes for Voldemort's followers. They had been used as a distraction for the Ministry and for Dumbledore to turn attention away from the Azkaban break, and they had spread countrywide terror and chaos for several hours, facilitating the escape of all of the prisoners. Those who had been victimized in the attacks had also been relieved of their wands so that those who had none could be supplied with one. It was a frightening thought. The Azkaban break had provided Voldemort with hundreds of new 'recruits' to fight for him, and at the same time had greatly diminished the number those who opposed him by simply eliminating them.  
  
Mr. Ollivander did, indeed, remember exactly which wands he had sold Bill, Molly and Arthur, and was able to get Bill a duplicate wand right away. Molly and Arthur would have to wait for their wands to be duplicated, however, and were promised that they should be ready in a week.  
  
"Arthur can use Percy's wand until then," Molly said. "Since none of us are really going to be alone for any length of time, it shouldn't be too hard to make do until then."  
  
They walked with Bill back to the bank, and then began the walk back to the Leaky Cauldron. They were surprised to see Rowan, as she stepped from the front door of the Daily Prophet building in the company of another young woman.  
  
"George!" She said in surprise as he strode over to her. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I thought you were asleep back at the house," he growled, not pleased to find that she had been at work without his having any idea she had gone.  
  
"I had to come in to get my article submitted for the evening edition," she explained. "I had Uncle Nigel and Aunt Suzette come with me and leave me here before going back home and going back to bed. Kimberly, here, was walking with me to the Leaky Cauldron so that we could go home."  
  
George nodded politely to Kimberly, and said, "Please don't go anywhere without at least leaving me a message, okay?"  
  
"Okay," she said, seeing the concern in his eyes. "I promise. I'm sorry if I scared you; I didn't think you'd be up for hours, yet."  
  
They all walked together to the Apparition point inside the Leaky Cauldron and bid Rowan's friend good bye before taking it in turns to Apparate in pairs back to the Winters' home. 


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-six**  
  
Once they got back to the house, Rowan yawned widely and was herded off to bed by Molly. From what she told George, he figured that she had only gotten about four hours of sleep in the past two days, and so he merely kissed her goodnight and then went off to bathe and change his clothes. Ron, Ginny and Harry would be arriving in just a couple of hours, and he was sure that it was going to be another long night as they broke the news of the house and filled them in on the details of everything that had happened the night before.  
  
Once he was ready, George sought out his mother and told her that he planned to spend the next couple of hours with Fred. He agreed to take the Floo Network straight to St. Mungo's, and so she didn't insist that he have an escort. "Please try and get back in time to be here when the others arrive. Dumbledore's last note said that they would be arriving at seven o'clock sharp."  
  
George promised that he would be there, and set off to take his brother some clean clothes. If he knew anything at all, he knew that Fred would be looking for a way to escape confinement to a hospital bed, and he intended to do what he could to help. As he turned the corner and approached the room where Fred was supposed to be resting, he could hear a female voice he didn't recognize exclaiming, "Mr. Weasley, really!" With a grin, George stopped in the doorway and surveyed Fred, with a mutinous look on his face, and a Healer holding a vial of bright red liquid standing over him.  
  
"I said you're not putting that crap on my shoulder again!" Fred said fiercely, gesturing to the bottle in the Healer's hand and to a tray on the table next to her that held an array of ointments and potions.  
  
"You've got to have your wound cleaned before it can be treated again!" she answered in an exasperated tone.  
  
"No!" Fred said again pressing his back as hard against the fall wall as possible in his attempt to keep the woman with the bottled hellfire away from him.  
  
"Problems, Bro?" George finally spoke up, walking in and tossing the bag he'd brought with the robes for his brother on the other, now empty, bed.  
  
"Yes!" Fred said with relief as he spotted his twin. "This so-called Healer is trying to kill me!"  
  
George chuckled as he entered the room. The bandages had been removed from his injury, and while it made him slightly queasy to look at the raw skin and the large dent in his shoulder where a portion of flesh that had been blasted away, he kept his face cheerful. "Hasn't his wound already been cleaned out?" he asked the attending Healer,  
  
"Of course it has!" she snapped, at her wits end with this patient. "It has to be done every time new salve is applied, to give the medicines their maximum benefit."  
  
"It didn't hurt that bad when Carly did it last time!" Fred accused. "You're trying to kill me!" He was beyond caring that George was probably going to tease him for the rest of his life over this one moment; the potion that had been keeping the pain at bay had worn off, and he wasn't letting anyone pour that awful red liquid on any part of his body. The fact that the evil stuff actually sizzled upon contact with his skin should have been enough to tell these nutters that it couldn't possibly be good for him.  
  
"Oh for Merlin's sake!" the Healer huffed.  
  
"What is going on in here?" Carly asked sternly from the doorway as she took in the sight of the man she loved cowering against the wall while his twin laughed at him. "Fred, I can hear you all the way down the corridor! I leave you alone for twenty minutes and you're causing a disturbance!"  
  
"Poor ickle Fweddie is afwaid of a potion!" George taunted just for the hell of it; he knew that his brother was in no shape to get up and punch him for his cheekiness right now.  
  
"I'm sorry Healer Hayward," Carly sighed. "I can take care of him from here. Healer Thorpe was just looking for you, anyway."  
  
"You're welcome to him!" the other woman answered, handing the bottle of potion to Carly. "I understand that you have an arrangement with Healer Swift in regards to this young man's discharge?"  
  
"Yes ma'am," Carly answered, her tone placating. "I'll have him out of here within the hour if all goes well."  
  
"Well, if he's rally leaving, then this day won't have been all bad." Hayward answered, glaring at Fred meaningfully.  
  
Only Carly's glare stopped Fred from uttering a rude comment at the retreating Healer's back. "Fred!" she hissed. "Will you please keep in mind that these poor Healers – of which I am in training to become – are only doing their jobs?"  
  
"Sorry," Fred muttered petulantly. "But that stuff didn't hurt that bad the last time you put it on!"  
  
"You were under the influence of a calming potion and several very strong pain killing potions when this was done last." Carly said, motioning for him to come away from the wall and sit where she could reach him. "I made a deal with Healer Swift that you would be allowed to be discharged into my care as long as you got one more treatment here, and then I promised to continue your treatment at home; and that you would be taking it easy for the next few days."  
  
"I love you!" he said with feeling. "I want to get out of here!"  
  
"I know you do," Carly said briskly, handing him a small beaker and watching as he drank it down. "So lets get this part over with so that we can all get out of here."  
  
He nodded, but looked very apprehensive when she suddenly said, "George, sit on him."  
  
"My pleasure!" George grinned evilly, and came over to the bed to hold his brother down.  
  
"This is going to sting like the blue blazes," Carly warned. "Even with the potion I just gave you. Just hold still and it'll be over as soon as you know it."  
  
The stream of curses that flowed from Fred's mouth would have made even Mad-Eye Moody blush, but Carly's face remained passive. She competently coated the wound with the syrupy, bright red cleansing potion, and then rinsed the wound gently with warm water from the tip of her wand. With able and steady hands, she applied an ointment to his wound, which now resembled a bad burn, and used her wand to help it form a kind of shell over the area. Over that, she dabbed even more ointment, which seemed to absorb into the shell and disappear. George sucked air through his teeth in sympathy, but kept his hold on Fred, even as he saw a tear slip from behind one of his eyes.  
  
"Done," Carly said briskly. "Now all I have to do is wrap it in clean dressing, and help you get dressed. It looks like George brought you a change of robes."  
  
"I thought I'd come and see if I couldn't persuade the Healers to release him to me if I promised to look after him," George said airily.  
  
"You couldn't have come before all of that?" Fred groaned.  
  
"Sorry," George smiled blandly. "But we can get you out of here now."  
  
"Thank heaven!" Fred sighed.  
  
Carly helped him to his feet and then left George to help his brother dress while she went and signed out. When she returned, Fred was pale, and his face drawn from the effort he had expended while fighting off the Healer, being treated and getting dressed. She carried a thick pile of patient charts and folders that she was taking back to the house to work on. As George held Fred's arm to steady him, they all made their way down to the lobby Apparition points.  
  
It was only thirty minutes until the expected arrival of Ron, Ginny and Harry by Portkey when the twins and Carly appeared at the edge of the garden. Fred was perspiring, and Carly was sure that only his sheer determination was keeping him on his feet as they made it up the front walk. They found everyone but Rowan and Arthur in the kitchen, sitting around the table enjoying shepherd's pie. When Toolah saw them she hurried to fetch more plates, and soon had the newcomers sitting with the others, and was fussing over Fred.  
  
"Fred!" Molly scolded. "You weren't supposed to get out of hospital until tomorrow! Just look at you, you're white as a sheet!"  
  
"I'm okay, Mum," he said wearily. "I just wanted to be here with the family."  
  
"I'm going to make him relax in his bed after he gets some food inside of him," Carly said with a yawn.  
  
Fred wondered if he would be able to persuade Carly to lay down with him. After everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours, he wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her and hold her close for a while. With a sigh, he guessed that it would still be a while before any of them got any real rest, and it didn't seem right to be sharing a bed with her while under her Aunt and Uncle's roof, no matter how innocent it was.  
  
"You should get some rest as well," Suzette chided. "Nigel has spoken to your parents, and assured them that you girls are safe and well. You would not want to make a liar out of him, would you?"  
  
"I'll get some rest once Fred is settled into his room," Carly promised. "I have a huge stack of files to update tomorrow, but I shouldn't have to go back to St. Mungo's for a couple of days, except to drop them off. Barring any emergencies, that is."  
  
"They ate a companionable meal, and Molly scolded Charlie and George for all of the robes that had been delivered for her from Madam Malkin's a short while earlier. Suzette and Nigel asked questions about the Burrow, and offered suggestions and help for the rebuilding of their home. It wasn't until the clock in the parlor began to chime that Molly jumped to her feet and said, "Goodness! The children!" and rushed into the large entryway, followed closely by the others.  
  
There was a strange sound in the air, like the sound of a drain sucking down the remnants of water from a basin, and then a loud pop! Three teenagers appeared suddenly in the center of the entryway, and stumbled to the ground as they stopped revolving around a book entitled, Fancy Hippogriff Breeding and their feet hit the ground and they tripped over the carry-alls they had brought with them. As Bill and Charlie stepped forward to haul Harry and Ron to their feet, Ginny scrambled up on her own and fumed, "I'm going to kill that pasty-faced little son of a..."  
  
"Ginny! Ron! Harry! What on earth happened to you?" Molly demanded when she got a good look at her children.  
  
Ron's lip was bloody, and he had thin scratch marks across his cheek. Harry was sporting a red welt where his glasses had been forced against his face, and his nose was bleeding heavily. Ginny had an eye that was rapidly blackening, and her hair was in wild disarray.  
  
"Id wath Malfoy," Harry offered, pinching his nose and leaning his head forward to try to staunch the flow of blood pouring from it. "And hith two goonth."  
  
"They turned up just as we were heading to Dumbledore's office to come here," Ginny said. "Needless to say he had a... disagreement."  
  
Carly stepped forward and said, "Hold still," and then healed Harry's nose with her wand. She was still wearing her smock from St. Mungo's, and pulled a tube of ointment from her pocked and smeared some on the welt. Next she moved to Ron, and healed his lip and smeared some more of the ointment on the scratches on his face. Lastly she turned to Ginny, who looked at her curiously at her as she had her black eye treated.  
  
"Are you saying that Malfoy punched you in the eye?" Charlie growled dangerously. The Weasley boys had been taught not to hit girls; maybe Malfoy needed a lesson as well.  
  
"No," Ginny said, still angry about it all. "It was Goyle, the stupid git; he was blinded by the hex I hit him with, and was just swinging wildly. While Harry was taking care of Crabbe, Malfoy and Ron got into it."  
  
"He fights like a girl," Ron said in disgust. "The little ferret actually scratched me! Would have bitten me, too if I hadn't knocked his front teeth out."  
  
George gave a hoot of amused appreciation at that remark, and Molly glared at him. "Really!" she admonished, "What must Suzette and Nigel think? What could Malfoy possibly have to say to cause all this? You should know better by now!"  
  
"I'm sorry Mrs. Weasley," Harry said firmly, without a hint of apology in his voice. "I won't repeat to you what he had to say, but I can guarantee that we were totally justified in how we handled it."  
  
"Mum," Ginny said uncertainly. "He said... He said our house was gone."  
  
All three teens turned their gaze to Molly, and she reluctantly nodded her head. "I'm afraid it's true. All that's left is splinters and wreckage."  
  
Ginny gasped, and her hand flew to her mouth. Ron stood stock still, while his face turned increasingly redder. Anger was building up in him, and he wanted more than anything at that moment to take the portkey back to Hogwarts and throttle Malfoy some more. Harry stood staring at the woman he'd come to know as the closest thing he had to a mother, and realized that she had lost every last meager thing she owned; a single tear fell down his cheek as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms tightly around her. "I'm so sorry," he whispered into her hair. Soon Ron and Ginny had their arms around Harry and Molly and they embraced each other for the strength it could give them all. 


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter Twenty-seven**  
  
"Not to be rude, or anything," Harry said as they all broke from their embrace. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve. This place was too... elegant for the Burrow, and too cheerful to be Grimmauld Place. "But where are we?"  
  
"You're in my home," Nigel said, stepping forward, and drawing Suzette with him. He offered a hand to Harry, Ron and Ginny in turn, who all shook it dutifully.  
  
"Harry, this is Nigel Winters, and this is his lovely wife, Suzette. Nigel, Suzette, this is Harry Potter. This is my younger brother Ron, and my sister, Ginny," George introduced. He laid a comforting hand on Ginny's back, as she leaned into him with tear-filled eyes, and then he said to Ron, Harry and Ginny. "The beautiful woman who patched you up here is Carly Winters, Nigel and Suzette's niece; she's an Apprentice Healer at St. Mungo's.  
  
Once everyone was properly introduced, they all moved into the large living area beyond the entryway, and settled down onto the sofas and floor. Fred was granted leniency, and made comfortable on the couch so that he could join in the reunion with his siblings. Harry, Ron and Ginny were told most of the news that was known, and got to know a bit about their host and hostess, and about Fred's girlfriend. Fred sat back tiredly, annoyed with himself for feeling so weak and out of sorts. Ginny kept looking over at him half fearfully, and he finally patted the cushion on one side of him, gesturing her to come sit close to him. Instead of sitting on the couch with him and risk causing him pain, she sank to the floor right in front of him, and held onto his hand as she listened quietly to what everyone had to say. Her eyes met his and a message passed between them: 'We'll talk privately later.' He had no doubt that Ginny, Ron and Harry would be sneaking into his and George's room later for a late night not-in-front-of-the-parents talk.  
  
It was after ten o'clock when Carly finally settled Fred back in bed, onto a pile of fluffy pillows. She helped him change into pajamas and checked his wound for any signs of infection. With a huge yawn, she kissed him goodnight and told him to get some sleep before she went to bed herself in the room she shared with Rowan. George came in shortly after, holding a plate of warm cookies that Toolah had pressed on him; Ginny followed with a pitcher of milk, and Ron with glasses. Harry came in as well, looking very solemn and uncertain.  
  
George summoned up chairs around Fred's bed, and Ginny poured everyone a glass of milk to go with the cookies that had been placed on Fred's bed. After they were settled, Fred used his wand to cast a sound- muffling charm on the room, so that they could speak freely.  
  
"Has everyone else gone to bed?" Fred asked.  
  
"No," Ron said. "Mum and Suzette are in the parlor, and Bill is at the kitchen table – looks like he's writing a letter."  
  
"So," Ginny said briskly. "What's the deal with the Winterses? Are they members of the Order?"  
  
"Yeah," Ron asked. "Why aren't we staying at Grimmauld Place?"  
  
"No," George said. "They don't know about the Order."  
  
"Yet," Fred added. "They'll have to be told soon. Carly is suspicious already, and I'm sure she's probably talked to Rowan about it."  
  
"No doubt," George agreed. "But I think that they'll understand and all. They're good people, and they've already saved our hides once. Dad's going to talk to Dumbledore about it, but until then, we have to be careful what we talk about in front of them."  
  
"So what should we all do?" Ginny wanted to know.  
  
"I don't know, Gin," Fred said. "Whatever we can, I guess. I think that tomorrow Charlie wants to go and sift through what's left of the house; see if anything can be salvaged."  
  
"I want to go," Ron said.  
  
"So do I," Ginny said.  
  
Harry simply nodded thoughtfully.  
  
"What's on your mind, Harry?" George said. "Spill it. You've been quiet ever since you found out about the Burrow."  
  
"I guess," Harry said quietly. "I guess I'm just trying to realize it all. So much has happened in just one day. Getting called to Dumbledore's office and the news about Percy, the attacks and Azkaban. It's just so... much. And I keep thinking about what Malfoy said."  
  
Ginny made a noise in her throat like and angry cat, and Ron's fists clenched.  
  
"Let's hear it," Fred demanded. Even if there weren't anything they could do about it, it would help for them to be able to share their anger.  
  
"Well we were all walking down the corridor to Dumbledore's office. It was about a half an hour before we were supposed to get the portkey to come here," Ron began. "We were just passing that staircase behind the tapestry of the Goblin Rebellion leaders, when Malfoy and his sidekicks stepped out in front of us."  
  
Ginny picked up the tale and said, "And then she starts shooting off his mouth about Percy. He said that it was disgusting that the only Weasley to ever show a hint of Wizarding pride couldn't even do that properly, and that he'd gotten what was coming to him. He was banging on about how now that his dad is out of Azkaban, no place will be safe for Muggleborns or us. He said some other things, too, but I can't bring myself to repeat them." Her eyes were angry, and there was sheen of tears over them.  
  
Fred and George looked livid at this bit of news, though they weren't surprised by it. Malfoy had always been a slimly little git who didn't know when to keep his damned mouth shut. They may have left Hogwarts, but that didn't mean they couldn't dole out a little retribution to the Malfoy heir. They would make sure of that. A howler full of some Perfectly Permanent Purple dye and Stupendous Stink Solution would be good – for starters.  
  
"Have a nice time at home Weasel," Ron repeated Draco's words with an uncanny accuracy, "That is if you still have one. I knew my father wouldn't waste any time once he got out of there. He always said..."  
  
"What he should have said was 'duck'," Harry interrupted. "Instead of spouting out all of that garbage."  
  
"Yes," Ginny agreed with a sly smile. "He didn't look too happy with the live frogs that came out the next time he opened his big mouth."  
  
The twins grinned in appreciation, and Ron sighed happily at the memory. "I've been working on the hex for months!" he said with satisfaction. "He really shouldn't have dropped his wand when that happened; the fight really took a downward turn for them after that."  
  
"So you think that Lucius was responsible for demolishing the Burrow?" Fred asked.  
  
Ginny shrugged and said, "I'd bet money on it? How else would Draco know about it? He probably knew about he attacks long before they actually happened."  
  
"If only we could prove that," Ron said viciously, "It would be Draco sitting behind prison bars."  
  
"As wonderful as that thought is," Harry said quietly, "it probably won't happen. He may not have a whole lot of common sense, but he's not stupid, either; especially with instructions from his father telling him how to keep from getting caught."  
  
You just leave Draco Malfoy alone for now," George advised. "He'll get what's coming to him, sooner or later. Sooner, if Fred and I have anything to say about it."  
  
They talked for a while longer about how Hogwarts had been locked down during the attack at Hogsmeade, and some of the students had already gone to bed after the Halloween feast. They didn't even know what had happened until the next morning. It hadn't escaped any of the other house's notice that no one in Slytherin house seemed to have suffered a loss in all of this. In total, about a dozen other students had been given leave to go home to their families because of lost lives in the attacks. The mood in the castle had been one of trepidation, and everyone had spoken in whispers, and everyone had held their breath whenever a professor called out anyone's name, in case it was bad news from home.  
  
"Well, guys," Fred said when he saw that midnight was fast approaching. "The next couple of days are going to be hard on all of us; tomorrow we're going to see if anything can be salvaged from the Burrow, and then the day after is the funeral. Go and get some sleep. I know I'm worn out."  
  
They all nodded and said good night, and went to the rooms that they had been given for their stay. Fred knew that even though they had left this room, they would probably still be gathering in Ron and Harry's room to talk even more. It was strange how he and George had graduated to a place somewhere between 'them' (the adults) and 'us' (trusted brothers and friends). He supposed it was a necessary transition, but it made him a little sad. 


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter Twenty-eight**  
  
George woke to the not unwelcome sight of Rowan's face hanging over his own. She had just shaken him awake and was now saying quietly, "Hey, sleepy head. I'm getting ready to leave for work."  
  
"C'mere," he said sleepily. Tugging her hand until she sat on the bed beside him. He sat up and put his arms around her and gave her a proper 'good morning' until Fred's scratchy voice interrupted, "That had better not be my girl."  
  
"Nope," George answered, smiling into Rowan's eyes. "This one's mine."  
  
"I'm going in to work now; Bill has to go into the bank, and so he's going to walk me to the Prophet on the way. I should be able to finish there and meet you all at the Burrow around lunchtime," She said. "Nearly everyone else is awake and having breakfast. I got to meet Ron, Ginny and Harry, too."  
  
She stood up and leaned in for one last kiss before she headed for the door. "Oh, and Fred," she said by way of parting. "Carly was just making up some sort of nasty looking red potion in the kitchen. You might consider making a run for it."  
  
Fred groaned and tried half-heartedly to smother himself with one of his pillows. George chuckled and got out of bed, intent on getting a shower while everyone else was occupied with breakfast. His muscles were a bit achy, and it was going to be a long day. He stood under the steamy spray until his fingers began to wrinkle, and then reluctantly dried himself off. A look in the mirror above the sink told him that the spot where he had hit his head was almost healed; only a slight bruise remained where the goose egg and gash had been on the night of the attacks. He picked up his wand and performed the charm to remove the stubble from his chin, and then brushed his teeth. By the time he finished and got back to his room, he could found Ginny standing outside his door, watching with a grimace as Carly bullied Fred into letter her clean out his wound and re-dress it. The stream of swearing that was coming from inside was evidence that it didn't hurt him much less than it had yesterday afternoon.  
  
"His shoulder looks bad," Ginny murmured as George came up behind her.  
  
"He'll be okay," George said, seeing the concern in her eyes. "Is everyone just about ready to go?"  
  
"We've got some time. Carly said something about Fred needing a sponge bath, and then Mum is insisting that everyone eat their weight in porridge for breakfast." Ginny said. "I actually came here to look for you and tell you that your breakfast is ready."  
  
"Okay, I'll be there in a minute," George said. "I need to torment Fred a bit first."  
  
Ginny smiled at him as he winked and disappeared into the bedroom saying, "Gods, that shower felt great! There's nothing like a steaming hot shower to work out the kinks in your muscles."  
  
Fred suggested something rude and physically impossible in response, and Ginny chuckled as she went to get the dragon hide gloves that Charlie insisted she'd need for the day's work ahead. "Are you coming with us today, Carly?" George asked as she helped Fred to his feet.  
  
"I'll have to meet you out there around lunchtime. I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on and drop off at the hospital first. I'll bring lunch for everyone with me." She answered, sighing when Fred shrugged off her helping hand churlishly.  
  
George didn't really blame his brother for being cranky, but decided to tease him just the same. "Don't forget to bring that red stuff with you – Fred might get his wound dirty while we're working out there."  
  
A hint of mischievousness came into Carly's eyes as Fred's narrowed to slits. "You're going to have to pay for that later."  
  
"Relax," George grinned. "Carly's about to make you a very happy man. I ran into Ginny in the hall, and she said you're getting a sponge bath now." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and laughed outright when Carly blushed. "I'm going to go grab some breakfast. We're going to be leaving soon, so don't get too carried away."  
  
George just chuckled and said, "I'm going to go grab some breakfast. We're going to be leaving soon, so don't take too long getting ready."  
  
In the kitchen Harry and Ron were sitting with huge bowls of porridge in front of them, and Molly and Toolah frowning at each other.  
  
"What's up with them?" George asked.  
  
"Mum doesn't know what to do," Ron said quietly. "Toolah won't let her lift a finger."  
  
The subjects of their conversation looked over at them suspiciously, and Harry hurriedly picked up his spoon and began eating porridge again. Molly glared as Toolah began preparing another bowl and placing it in front of George.  
  
"What are you going to be doing today, Mum?" George asked her, in hopes of distracting her.  
  
"I wanted to come and help you kids, but with your father starting his new job, I'm going to have to finalize things for tomorrow without him. Suzette has kindly offered to go with me." Molly answered, trying to keep the sadness from her voice..  
  
George nodded. Charlie came into the room with Ginny on his heels, and Molly said, "And I wanted to say, boys, that your father looked very smart in his new robes this morning. Thank you."  
  
Charlie grinned his crooked grin and kissed Molly on the cheek; compliments and thanks had always made him blush. "Can't have dad showing up starkers," he said. "No one would take him seriously."  
  
Fred came into the room shortly after that, wearing clean robes. His hair was still damp from its recent washing, and his arm was in a sling across his middle, but he was wearing a smile. "Morning!" he said cheerfully sitting at the table and snagging the bowl of porridge from in front of his twin. George smirked at his brother's grin, in no doubt of what had put it there. Lucky bastard.  
  
Toolah placed another bowl in front of George, and filled their glasses with milk. Suzette came to collect Molly, and so the six others finished their meal.  
  
"How are we getting to the Burrow?" Ginny asked. "Harry, Ron and I can't Apparate, and the Floo won't work if the fireplace is wrecked."  
  
"Dad made a couple of portkeys before he left. One will take you all there, and the other will bring you home. The rest of us will Apparate." Charlie explained. "Does everyone have gloves? Cloaks? Good! Let's get going, then."  
  
They all walked out of the house and to the border of the property, where it was safe to Apparate. Fred and George went ahead, and Charlie pulled an ordinary wooden spoon from the pocket of his robes. He handed it to Ron, and Harry and Ginny each reached out to grasp each end.  
  
"One, two, three," Charlie counted, and then tapped the spoon with his wand to activate the portkey. The three of them disappeared with slight suctioning sound, and then a pop as air rushed it to occupy the place where they had just been standing. Once satisfied that nothing had gone awry, Charlie Apparated as well.  
  
Fred looked around him with a dazed feeling of having a surrealistic nightmare that he couldn't' wake from. As he surveyed the damage done to his childhood home, he felt his blood begin to boil, and wanted nothing more than to just scream out his fury to the heavens. He choked back the burning hatred for those who had caused this, along with the tears that were threatening. He needed to keep calm in front of the others.  
  
George stood beside him, taking in the sight that looked so much worse in daylight than it had in the pre-morning darkness of the night before last. Where his brother was feeling rage, though, George only felt sadness and guilt. Things should never have come to this. Would his family home be standing today if he had somehow been a better brother to Percy? Would Percy still be alive? He was distracted from these thoughts by the almost simultaneous arrival of the others.  
  
Ginny, Ron and Harry managed to stay on their feet as they came to a halt in the yard. Charlie appeared with a pop only a moment later, and then everyone fell silent as they looked around at the demolition that had been wrought. The house was, to put it simply, leveled. It now resembled nothing so much as huge pile of broken wood, glass and stone, tossed together in a jumbled chaos for no apparent reason. There were chickens scattered here and there over the garden, which was littered with debris, and a small group of garden gnomes stood clustered beneath the trunk of a large tree that had seemingly been snapped in half, and was laying across the chicken coop. A large scorch mark and cold ashes on the ground was all that remained of the small shed that Mr. Weasley had used for a workshop for his Muggle treasures.  
  
Fred noticed that Ginny was biting her lip almost hard enough to draw blood, and her fingernails were digging into her palms as she worked to master herself. Ron's eyes were shining with unshed tears as he swallowed down the lump in his throat, and Harry had tears on his cheeks, though his jaw was clenched tight. Charlie looked at the others, ready to comfort anyone who needed it, a look of calm acceptance hiding whatever he was feeling under the surface.  
  
"Right," Harry was the first to speak. "What do we do first?"  
  
Everyone else seemed to snap out of their stupor at these words, and Charlie took charge. Since half of the group was not permitted to use their wands, Ron, Harry and Ginny were delegated the task of searching through the debris for anything salvageable and putting things they found in one area of the yard. Fred would be given the job of repairing anything that could be repaired with magic, and George was to help Charlie divide up the rubble between magical and non-magical items. The non-magical, non- salvageable pile could be vanished to a Muggle garbage dump, and the magical items would have to be dealt with separately. They had to be careful in this respect, because magical items in a Muggle dump could cause problems later on. Reusable building materials would be saved in case they could be used later in the rebuilding process. Everyone accepted their assignments and donned their gloves, then waded into the mess with determination.  
  
They spoke little as Charlie and George levitated broken boards over toward Fred, who tried a simple 'reparo!' spell on them before assigning each piece to the designated piles. It was slow going. Harry, Ginny and Ron had decided to separate and approach the wreckage from different directions, which would eventually have them meeting somewhere in the middle. Because they really couldn't see much in the jumble of broken boards and bricks, they began to collect bricks and stones and put them into piles. Charlie stopped periodically to vanish the unusable and unsalvageable non-magical items away, and within a couple of hours, they began to see progress.  
  
Ron, Ginny and Harry could now sift through some of the things that had been actual contents of the house, and were each making a small collection of items. Charlie had found them each a crate to gather their findings in, and before long, Ron, who had started in at the back of the house, had a collection of shoes, and a small basket of laundry that had been waiting to be done. Ginny, who had started by the kitchen, had a kettle, several pots and pans and assorted flatware. She had also pulled out a single chair that appeared to have survived the onslaught of destructive curses thrown at the house. Harry had started at the side opposite Ginny, and had been working industriously, uncovering books and knitting needles and even a small side table.  
  
It took George a while to notice that Harry was kneeling in the rubble, his cloak cast aside, staring at something big in his hands.  
  
"What's up, Harry?" he called.  
  
Everyone paused and looked over to Harry, shocked to find that he had tears streaming down his face. They hurried to his side, and looked down at what he was holding. It was the remnant of the clock that had always hung in the living room, and the hands were frozen in place over the descriptions of each person's whereabouts when it had been destroyed. Ron and Ginny's hands pointed to 'School' and Charlie's pointed to 'work'. Fred, George, Bill, Molly and Arthur's hands were all pointing to 'Mortal Peril'; Percy's pointed to 'Lost'. Tears filled Ginny's eyes as well, and she knelt down beside Harry and drew him into an embrace. Fred laid a hand on his shoulder, and Ron just kept staring at the face of the clock as if he couldn't comprehend what it was; Charlie looked away with a wet sounding sniff, and hurriedly wiped at his face with his sleeve. George tried to take the piece of clock from Harry, but he held tight to it, and said, "I want to take this. I want to find someone who can make another one. I want to do that for the family."  
  
Charlie nodded, understanding better than Harry knew, and said, "I'll help find out who made this one, and I'll let you know." 


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**  
  
Rowan sat at her desk at the Prophet, and read the first paragraph of the article she was writing. She had been distracted all morning; her mind was with George and his family as they dealt with so many difficult things. She scratched out an ill-phrased sentence with her quill and began to re- write it, when a shadow fell over her desk. When she looked up, she was surprised to find her boss, Mr. Starsmore looking back at her.  
  
"Mr. Starsmore, sir!" She greeted with a nervous smile. "How nice to see you this morning."  
  
"I'd like a word with you in my office," he said without preamble. "Now."  
  
As she stood and followed him through the labyrinth of cubicles that made up the newsroom, she noted that many of the other reporters were looking at her with varying expressions. Some looked surprised; some were staring with trepidation, and others with frank curiosity. Rita Skeeter, who quill was scribbling away on her desk with out any attention at all from it's owner, had a thoughtful, yet satisfied look on her face that made Rowan's stomach flutter uncomfortably. Mr. Starsmore wasn't a man who socialized, and he didn't indulge in chitchat or idle gossip unless it profited the paper in some way. If he was calling an employee into his office, it was either a very good thing, or a very bad thing. Rowan wondered if the expression on Rita's face was an indication of what was to come. They had not gotten along well from the first day that Rowan had begun at the Prophet, and Rita had warned her that Rowan was 'looking for trouble' if she thought she could compete with a 'real' reporter who had been at the paper for the better part of twenty years.  
  
When they reached the boss's office, he said simply, "Have a seat." He gestured to a comfortable red velvet chair, and rounded his impressively large desk to take his own seat in a throne-like leather chair. Evan Starsmore was a portly man; with a nearly bald head that most employees believed got that way from his pulling his hair out so often. He was a man with a temper, and no one wanted to get in his way when he was in a foul mood.  
  
Rowan sized him up and thought that he didn't look to be in a foul mood today, though he did look tired. She sat in the chair with her back straight, and waited to find out why he wanted to see her. 'What will you do if he tells you you're fired?' a panicky little voice whispered inside her head.  
  
"I won't mince words," he said simply. "I know you've only been here a few weeks, but you work is good."  
  
"Oh!" Rowan said cautiously. This man seldom ever just talked; he usually shouted or yelled even the most common of phrases. She had gotten the impression over the past few weeks that he must be going deaf. "Thank you."  
  
"It's been better than good, actually, and I think that it's time for a change." He said.  
  
"A change from good?" Now she was just confused.  
  
Starsmore leaned back in his chair, pulled a pipe from his drawer, and lit it with his wand. As the first few puffs of smoke emitted from his mouth, he leveled his gaze on her and said, "Rita Skeeter's been in to see me."  
  
Rowan wasn't sure where he was going with this, but decided the silence was her best friend in this case. She sat stoically under his gaze, and finally he said, "She's been in here almost daily since you started here, complaining about you. Says you've been stealing her stories." Again, Rowan remained silent until she could discern where he was going with this. "That tells me something."  
  
He set his pipe down in a tray that seemed to be made for that purpose and leaned forward again. They looked at each other silently for several long moments before he smiled. Rowan had never seen this man smile before, and had heard tales among the others in the newsroom that he never had before. Even when he was pleased, he would keep a straight face and yell out, "Good work!" or "Well done!"  
  
"You've got Rita Skeeter scared of you," he said with obvious relish. "What do you have to say about that?"  
  
"I haven't done anything to make her afraid of me," Rowan objected. That disconcerting smile widened.  
  
"Haven't you?" he asked. "From the minute you walked in that door, you've been writing better stories than her, and beating her to the punch in some cases. You have a fresh outlook on things. When you've got one of our most seasoned reporters running scared, you can be assured you're doing something right. Maybe it's because you're young; maybe it's because you're an American - I don't really give a damn!" He shouted these last six words loud enough for the entire office to hear.  
  
He watched her intently for a few more moments before she finally asked, "So is that why you wanted to talk to me? To tell me I'm doing good work?"  
  
"Of course not!" he shouted in his usual manner, and then lowered his voice again to a conversational tone. "You know you're doing good work, you don't need me to tell you that!"  
  
Rowan knew that he must have a point to make, and decided to let him make it in his own sweet time, rather than risk displeasing him. Luckily she didn't have to wait long.  
  
"I'm giving you your own column. I want you to write a daily column for the Evening Prophet about general interest items of your choice. Your first article is due tomorrow. This is a promotion, so don't screw it up."  
  
Rowan blinked and stared at him for a moment, then said, "I have a funeral to attend tomorrow."  
  
"So write about the funeral then," he told her, as if this was the most obvious solution in the world. He got to his feet and walked her toward the door; "I'm guessing that it has to do with the attacks, so our readers should be able to relate to it."  
  
Rowan wondered silently about that, but said nothing. He had, after all, left the content of her column up to her.  
  
"Oh! And just because it'll stick on Rita's craw, I'm going to give you your own office. She's been getting on my nerves lately, and need to be taken down a peg or two. It'll be a small one, but you'll need it; Rita's likely to try and sabotage you from the get-go. She's wanted a column of her own for years, so I suggest you put heavy wards around your new digs. Don't think this is going to be a cakewalk. I still expect you to follow up on the Peter Pettigrew/ Sirius Black story you have going in addition to your column."  
  
"Okay," Rowan answered. Her head was reeling and she didn't know quite how to react. "Thank you?"  
  
"You'll be cursing me in a month, Winters," he assured her, patting her heavily on the back with a meaty hand. "It's the price you pay for brilliant reporting."  
  
He opened the door to his office suddenly, and found Rita and two or three other employees blatantly trying to listen in on the meeting. Rowan had the distinct impression that those times he had reverted to shouting during their interview had been very much premeditated, and designed to give eavesdroppers the wrong impression until after their meeting was over.  
  
"Get back to work, people!" Starsmore shouted, making people scatter in all directions.  
  
Everyone, that was, except Rita Skeeter. "Need help packing up your desk?" she asked sweetly, clearly believing that all of her complaints had finally paid off.  
  
"That's nice of you Rita," Rowan replied with an equally saccharine manner. "But I think I can handle the move on my own."  
  
"The move?" Rita asked, looking confused.  
  
"Barker!" Starsmore shouted across the room to a harried looking wizard with his arms full of files. "Show Miss Winters to her new office, then bring me a cup of tea!" He turned on his heel and retreated back to his own office and shut the door behind him.  
  
"Her new office?" Rita shrieked, causing heads to turn, and some people to snicker. She marched over to Starsmore's office and clearly intended to march in and give him a piece of her mind, but found the door locked against her. She whirled to find Rowan trying unsuccessfully to hide a smirk, and vowed, "You'll pay for this!"  
  
Rowan simply followed Shawn Barker to a small office on the opposite side of the newsroom from where she usually sat, and sat in her new chair with a wide smile. She would go and move her files and things in a few minutes, but for now, she simply wanted to bask in the glow of the praise she had received. Maybe she would even pick Rita up a little 'thank you' gift from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to cap off her day.  
  
Carly was sitting at her desk inside her cramped cubicle at St. Mungo's, putting the last of her files in order. The Hospital had been returned to its normal state of affairs, and all patients were now being seen from the correct departments and on the right floors. She had purposely snuck in through a side entrance, and worn her everyday style of robes, instead of the lime green ones she wore when she was on duty. She had spent all morning sorting out he mess that had been made of patient records during the mad rush of the night before last, and was now doing her best to tidy up her work space and sort through her memos for anything urgent before sneaking out again. Toolah would already be working on filling a large hamper full of sandwiches and fruit and drinks for everyone already at work at the Burrow, and she was hoping to get out before being spotted by anyone who might try to put her to work.  
  
As she was putting the finishing touches on an answer to a memo, she heard a familiar voice and cringed. Marcus Appleby's obnoxious laughter could be heard coming down the row of cubicles, and in her direction. Carly quickly reached into her bag for a package that she had snuck out of the house that morning, and pulled out three Canary Creams and small china plate. She arranged them on her desk, and broke little piece off of one, to make it look like she had been nibbling the treats, and then smiled to herself. "Bring it on," she thought evilly, as she heard him talking to the witch in the next cubicle.  
  
Marcus was a Healer-In-Training that had been at St. Mungo's for a year before Carly had arrived. He had come here from Beauxbatons School in France, and believed himself to be charming and handsome and brilliant. He was handsome, Carly thought objectively, but that was where anything nice about him left off. Hw never failed to appear at her cubicle, help himself to anything she might have laying around to nibble on (usually sweets from a little dragon shaped bowl), and go over the reasons that he should 'get rid of' the 'red-haired buffoon' and date him instead. She had once made the severe error of speaking French in front of him, and so he had decided that they must be soul mates; nothing she had said could convince him otherwise.  
  
"Ah, Carlotta!" he said as he noticed her sitting there. "Why didn't you tell me you would be here today? Hmmm?"  
  
He immediately picked up a Canary Cream from the china plate, and continued on, "Are you quite rested from your ordeal?"  
  
"Oh quite rested, thank you," she said with a wide smile that he would undoubtedly take for encouragement. She didn't even grit her teeth together at the use of her full first name. "I'm actually not on duty today; I'll be back the day after tomorrow. Don't let me keep you from your rounds, though."  
  
"Nonsense!" he declared. "I always have time for you. I was just going to suggest..."  
  
"Carly!" another voice cut smoothly over Marcus. Healer Swift had appeared and looked pointedly at Marcus, a silent dismissal, then turned back to Carly. "I'm glad you're here. I know you're not on duty, and this won't take but a moment, but If I could have a word with you?"  
  
"Healer Swift; Carly and I were just sharing a morning snack. You can speak in front of me," Marcus said smoothly. "Carly and I don't keep secrets from each other." He took a large bite of the Canary Cream.  
  
"Marcus," Carly said, standing and gathering her bag and cloak. "You are a twit."  
  
She turned and followed the Healer, only looking back when she heard a pop. Marcus had turned into a giant yellow canary, and was glaring at her as she turned and left, chuckling along with everyone else. 'Maybe that will teach him to keep away from my desk,' she thought with satisfaction.  
  
She followed the healer down that corridor and into his office, which had windows that looked out onto the Muggle street below. She took the seat that was offered to her and waited curiously to see why she'd been called in.  
"I'm glad I caught you today," Healer swift began. "I'm going to be out of town for a few days and wanted to talk to you before I left. Don't worry, there's nothing wrong."  
  
Carly had begun to feel worried, and relaxed a bit at this last comment. "What was it you wanted to talk about?" she asked.  
  
"I just wanted to let you know that you have a decision to make," he told her. "I wanted to tell you about it so that you would have time to consider the matter before I return. You can give me your answer then."  
  
Carly nodded. She was very curious now. At this point in her apprenticeship, she should be right in the middle of dull, menial tasks while she learned the basics of how the hospital was run, and working on her research project. She had only been an apprentice for a little over a year in America, and had been sure that the move to London would place her back on the bottom of that ladder.  
  
"You handled yourself very competently the other night, and you impressed a lot of people. Word had gotten around that before you turned up here to help, you'd actually been in a battle with Death Eaters."  
  
Carly nodded when he paused, seeming to want confirmation of the information he had been given.  
  
When she didn't elaborate, he added, "So when you showed up here with a wounded man, you hadn't gotten word that you were needed here?"  
  
"No, sir," Carly said, remembering the chaos well. "When Fred was hurt in the attack on his family, I brought him here and found out what had been happening all over the country. Fred was taken up for treatment, and I just grabbed a smock and got to work."  
  
"Good, good," he murmured, making a note on a piece of parchment in front of him. "You arrived here shortly after midnight?"  
  
"Yes, sir. I think it was closer to one o'clock."  
  
"And you had worked a full shift on the day of October 30th?" he clarified, but didn't wait for anything more than a nod. "And you worked triage, then on fourth and fifth floors until seven a.m.?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
He made another note and then looked up at her and said, "Well as I told you, you impressed quite a few people. Not only patients, but several Healers came to me at different points during that night and told me what an exemplary job you were doing, considering the fact that you had loved ones who were wounded and having just come from a battle. I've got requests here from no less than three different healers who have asked to take up the position as your mentor for the remaining duration of your training. I know you technically still have three years to go before you're fully qualified, but I think that any of these three could help you on your road to gaining your qualifications a year ahead of time if you're willing to work hard. I have files here on all three Healers and their areas of expertise."  
  
Carly took the offered files with a shaking hand.  
  
"You've proven your worth here at St. Mungo's, even before all of this mess started up, and it hasn't gone unnoticed," he added. "I want you to study the file carefully and give serious consideration to each one before deciding."  
  
"But," Carly could hardly believe such a huge opportunity was being handed to her. "Apprentices don't normally get assigned mentors until they have two years experience."  
  
"As I said," Healer Swift smiled kindly at her. "You impressed a lot of people. Normally Healers don't request certain apprentices. Ever. They get assigned to a trainee and that's the end of it; you're being granted a special privilege here, young lady. Don't waste it."  
  
"No sir," Carly answered automatically. "I'll give it very careful consideration."  
  
He smiled at her in a fatherly way, and walked her to the door. Before she turned to go, he said with a twinkle in his eye, "Nice job with handling Appleby. It was your uncle who slipped one of those things onto my plate at tea not long ago." 


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter Thirty  
**  
It was almost one in the afternoon when Carly Apparated into the front garden of the Burrow with a large hamper full of food. Toolah had packed it to the bursting point, and it was quite heavy. She set it down and took a look around her at the wreckage and the progress that had obviously been made in a few hours. She was relieved to see that Fred wasn't acting foolish by trying to do any lifting, and that his robes were clean enough to suggest that he hadn't been trying anything earlier, either.  
  
Ginny and Harry were kneeling down in a relatively clear spot within the rubble, and appeared to be sorting through a trunk of some sort. Charlie was vanishing a couple of stuffed chairs and sofas that looked as though they had been eviscerated by some wild animal. George was gathering fat brown chickens to put back into the repaired coop, and Ron was walking toward her, carrying a large wooden cradle. He set it down with the pile of apparently salvageable items to her right.  
  
"Every one of us slept in that," he said, dusting off his gloved hands. "I'm glad it survived. Mum will be really pleased."  
  
"Are you ready for lunch?" she asked with a smile, determined not to let her emotions get out of control at the sight laid before her.  
  
"Ron's always ready to eat," Fred said. He had spotted her the moment she'd appeared, and had quickly finished repairing a cracked mirror. He set it down beside the cradle, and leaned in to give her a kiss.  
  
Ron just grinned widely and picked up the basket, calling out, "Lunch!"  
  
Everyone stopped what they were doing, and gathered around. Ginny brought over a couple of quilts that she had found and spread them out for everyone to sit on, and then called out, "Are you two going to be joining us?"  
  
"In a minute!" Carly called back, much to Fred's delight, and went back to kissing him.  
  
Harry grinned as he saw Ron's face turning red, and held out his hands when Charlie told him to, to get them 'washed' with a wave of his wand. The others followed suit, and they began to unpack a small feast. Carly and Fred joined them, and Rowan appeared a few minutes later. George got up to greet her, and the two of them took a short walk around the remains of the house, as Rowan got a bit teary-eyed. When they came back to the blanket, they concentrated on eating, but eventually the edge was taken from their hunger, and they began to talk. Ginny said that she had found a lot of kitchen items that were salvageable, and only needed some cleaning. Ron had found the section where the attic had collapsed inward and with it, several large trunks that stored Christmas decorations, memorabilia, old summer clothing, and other things that weren't really of much use, but were comforting just the same. Harry had found Ron's collection of Martin Miggs comic books, and his dresser almost completely in tact, though it had fallen from a great height. George had found the crates of pictures that he and Fred had been blown off of the walls and not replaced yet, and he and Charlie had cleared out almost all of the unusable furniture, and sent it off to a Muggle dump. There were really quite a lot of things that could be repaired or saved. When the new Burrow was built, it would still be able to be filled with all of the things they had come to recognize as the comforts of home.  
  
After they had finished eating, it was decided that Carly would work with Fred, repairing items, and the Rowan would help George and Charlie clear away debris. Harry, Ron and Ginny carried on with their rummaging, taking items to be piled with unbroken items, or over to Fred and Carly for repair. They stopped to rest once or twice, but it seemed that in no time at all, the sun was beginning to set. As the sun sunk just below the horizon, Bill arrived with Fleur, who had just returned from France. Arthur, Molly, Suzette and Nigel were quick to follow; Suzette had brought another basket of food for their dinner.  
  
Bill used his wand to make torches for light, and Harry had found several lanterns that were still in good working order. Soon the scene was lit sufficiently for them to see, and after they ate together, made short work of clearing out the rest. They had secured the salvaged items with several charms and wards to protect it from any weather or disturbances of any kind before traveling back to the Winters estate. Any Muggles who might happen by would only see a large outcropping of boulders where the remains of the house sat.  
  
Now that Fleur was home, Bill decided that he would rather be back at their apartment, and so they departed to together. Charlie provided the portkey for Ginny, Harry and Ron to take back, and the others all Apparated. It was near eleven o'clock when they got back and no one, though tired, seemed to want to call it a night. They knew that in the morning they would be attending a funeral, and none of them was looking forward to it. One by one they went to shower, and by midnight, Carly, Rowan, Fred, George, Charlie, Harry, Ron and Ginny were all sitting around the kitchen table in their pajamas and dressing gowns.  
  
"So how does building a house work in the Wizarding world?" Harry asked, his hands wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate. "Are there Wizarding contractors?"  
  
"Well there are," Charlie said. "But I think that we'd be better off trying to do as much as possible ourselves. Money's going to be tight, even with Dad's new job, and us all pitching in. There's some stuff we won't be able to handle ourselves, like plumbing, but I think that we should be able to work together for a lot of it."  
  
"Well I want to help out," Harry said. "I know that your Mum and Dad would never accept money from me, but they don't have to know if I pay for supplies, do they?"  
  
"I appreciate that you want to help, and believe me, we maybe calling on you for, uh, donations," Charlie said. "But first we need to find out how much building materials cost and how much we're going to need. I'm going to start contacting people the day after tomorrow about it."  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"Oh! I found this while we were working today," George said, pulling a flat piece of wood from his pocket and handing over to Harry. "It's the name of the people who made the family clock."  
  
Harry, with Ron and Ginny leaning over to take a look as well, read the label: Gear and Pendulum Clockmakers. Hogsmeade.  
  
"Thanks," he said. "I'll send them an owl tomorrow. With a little luck, maybe they can have it done by Christmas."  
  
At last, weariness got the better of them, and Charlie, Ginny, Ron and Harry went off to bed. George said that he wanted a few minutes alone with Rowan, and so Carly said that she needed to change the bandages on Fred's shoulder, and they left the room. ] "Okay, Winters," George said shrewdly. "Spill it. You've been waiting all day to tell me something important."  
  
Rowan grinned at his perception and, then said, "I'm being given my own column at the paper. I even got my own office!"  
  
George grinned back at her and drew her into a huge hug. "You'll be brilliant! Take a walk with me while you tell me the whole story."  
  
They stepped out the back door into the moonlight, and walked around in the cold night air as she recounted the whole thing. They didn't even notice to three sets of eyes watching them happily from the windows of Harry and Ron's room.  
  
Carly took Fred's hand and led him back to his bedroom, pausing at her own room to gather her bag, and closed the door behind them. Though Fred had taken the pain-relieving potion she had brought him at lunchtime, she knew by the way he was being cautious and deliberate with his movements that it had worn off. He sat on the bed and let her remove his pajama top and unwrap the bandages.  
  
"I had an interesting meeting today at the hospital," she said to distract him. She poured out some potion into a cup and handed it to him.  
  
Swallowing the bitter liquid with a grimace, he asked, "Did that great prat ask you out again?"  
  
"Well, sort of," Carly chuckled. Fred had taken to calling Marcus 'that great prat' even when Marcus was present. "But I think I've got him sorted out. He somehow ate a Canary Cream today."  
  
"Did he?" Fred grinned. "Imagine that."  
  
"Anyway, Healer Swift called me into his office and told me that three different Healers have asked to mentor me for the rest of my apprenticeship." She went about checking his wound, which looked much improved, and putting the different salves on it as she explained to him what an honor she was being given. She re-wrapped his shoulder neatly, even as he was reaching for her. "I'm proud of you," he said simply. "And I know you'll make the right choice."  
  
She smiled at him and framed his face in her hands as she kissed him.  
  
"Hey!" he noticed, suddenly. "You didn't put that red stuff on."  
  
"You don't need it anymore." She sighed as he kissed her. "I love you, Fred."  
  
"I love you too."  
  
With a flick of his wand, he locked and barred the door.  
  
"Fred!" Carly objected. "George will be coming back any minute!"  
  
"Not if he's smart," Fred growled against her ear. "I love you, Carly."  
  
And then when he went about showing her how much, even a damaged shoulder couldn't slow him down. George never even noticed, as he didn't get back to his own room until very late, indeed. 


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter Thirty-One**  
  
The sun had barely risen above the horizon when their mother shook George and Fred awake.  
  
"Five more minutes, Mum! Please?" whimpered George as he pulled the pillow over his head to block out the light.  
  
"Come on, you two. It's going to be a busy day. I don't know if you boys have anything appropriate here to wear today, and Rowan and Carly want to get to their own flat to pick up some things," Molly said briskly. "The funeral is going to start at ten o'clock."  
  
"Mum," Fred said sleepily as he swung his legs out from under the blankets and onto the floor. "Aren't we going to look strange wearing robes in a Muggle cemetery?"  
  
"Don't you worry about that," Molly assured him. "There are Charms in place to prevent anyone from noticing anything out of the ordinary. Now hurry up! We've less than three hours."  
  
When she was convinced that her boys were really getting out of bed, she moved along to wake the others, but stopped in the doorway to say, "By the way; Dumbledore will be coming back here to talk to the Winters family about the Order. I won't stop you if you still want to join,"  
  
"Mum...." Fred said, not sure what he could possibly say. She had fought against them for so long on this point, they thought that she would never relent, and that they would be forced to fight and work with the Order in secret.  
  
"It's okay, Fred. The past couple of days have proven to me that we're all in danger, whether you're members or not. I think I would be better off at least knowing what you're getting into." She said quietly. "I know you'll be careful."  
  
George walked over to give his Mum a hug, and Fred followed suit. She wiped a tear from her eye, and left them alone. As they were pulling on robes for the trip to the girl's flat, and then their own, Fred suddenly said, "What do you say we have Harry add a few more hands to the clock when he has it rebuilt? One each for Harry, Fleur, Carly and Rowan?"  
  
George looked at his twin thoughtfully for a moment before smiling. "That sounds just about perfect. We never did get around to having our talk."  
  
"I think we know what it was going to be about," Fred said. "It can wait until after today."  
  
They left the room to go and find the girls, and then ate a quick breakfast before Apparating away. They somehow found two sets of good clean robes in Fred's closet, and grabbed some that needed laundering, before checking on the shop and leaving a note for Lee. They traveled to Rowan and Carly's flat, and after check that it was safe, left them to pack what they needed while Fred and George went down to check on Eunice.  
  
Within an hour, they were back at Nigel and Suzette's and getting ready to go to the funeral. There were people bumping into each other in the hallway, and waiting turns for the bathroom, but no one was speaking much. Fred was the fastest to get ready, and so he went into the kitchen to find Toolah busy cooking for any visitors who came back with them afterward. Harry and Ron were sitting at the table, halfheartedly playing a game of chess, while Bill had a worn, and much folded piece of parchment in his hand, and was reading it with intense concentration. The mood in the house was one of expectation, and so he simply took a seat at the table and quietly watched the boys play their game. Harry was dressed in navy blue dress robes, which were probably new, since Harry seemed to have grown about four inches since the last time Fred had seen him; Ron was wearing the set of deep plum robes that he and George had bought him last year. They still fit him well, and Fred wondered idly if Ron had finally quit growing; he was taller than bill now by about and inch.  
  
Arthur came in and sat down as well, wearing a set of the robes that Charlie and George had picked out, and Fred asked him, "What's the plan, dad?"  
  
"We'll all Apparate – or portkey – to the burrow," Arthur answered quietly. "Alastor, and Tonks will meet us there to be Harry's guard."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes at this, but did not look away from the chessboard, where one of his pawns was being bludgeoned by one of Ron's pieces.  
  
"There will be two cars waiting there for us, on loan from the Ministry, so that we don't draw too much attention on the way to the cemetery," Arthur continued.  
  
Soon they were joined by George and Rowan, and then Carly, Suzette, Nigel, and finally Molly and Ginny. As soon as they were all gathered and ready to go, they walked as a group to the end of the front walk. Everyone except Arthur, Harry, Ron and Ginny Apparated away to the Burrow; Arthur pulled the same wooden spoon from the day before out of his robes and sent the others on their way. With a deep breath, he said a little prayer for the strength they would need to face the rest of the day, and disappeared with a pop.  
  
It was early evening by the time anyone got any rest. The day had been long and emotionally draining, and now everyone who was home was gathered together around the Winters' large kitchen table. No one was speaking much; Charlie and Bill had disappeared together shortly after Dumbledore had welcomed Suzette, Nigel, Rowan, Carly, Fred and George formally into the Order. Rowan and George had also left when she had announced that she had to finish and hand in an article at work. Carly and Fred were sitting on a bench in the back garden talking quietly together about everything that she had just learned about the Order. Arthur was letting Harry distract him with a game of Chess, while Ginny and Ron worked on the schoolwork they were missing.  
  
No one paid much attention when an owl arrived with the evening paper, and Toolah paid for it and sent it on its way. She brought the paper to Nigel and went back to cooking dinner; it was the first meal that Molly hadn't tried to help cook. Nigel opened the paper to look at the front page for news, when Carly came in with cheeks pink from the cold and announced, "Rowan's new column is supposed to be in the evening paper."  
  
Fred came in and slipped half-frozen fingers on Ginny's neck, making her squeal, as Nigel turned to the appropriate section and scanned over the page until he found it. He eyes widened momentarily as he read, and everyone looked at him curiously. Finally Suzette urged, it's Rowans first go at her column; read it out loud!"  
  
Everyone nodded and listened with interest. He cleared his throat and read what his niece had chosen as her first piece.  
  
"_Everyday Matters by Rowan Winters  
  
I attended the funeral of a Death Eater today.  
  
Sounds strange, doesn't it? Why would anyone bother to hold a funeral for a Death Eater? Because that ugly title was not what defined the man who lost his life - he had many titles, including Son, Brother, Friend. I stood at his graveside with his family, and listened to the words of grief and comfort that one always hears when a loved one passes on. I spoke sincere words of comfort myself, and did my best to lend kind words to those in need of them. Mother and Father, Sister and Brothers and a handful of family friends stood silently by and watched as one of their own was laid to rest. A final farewell for a young man who only wanted what was promised to him, but got, instead, a premature death at the hands of a man who was supposed to be a comrade.  
  
How did he get here? That is a long tale to tell, with no clear beginning and a tragic end. According to his family, he had been an ambitious youth who had craved approval and always followed the rules. He had loved to read, and took his studies seriously. He was never one to shirk his duty, and tried to perform his duties with a precise and unwavering vision of propriety and control. During his schooling at Hogwarts he achieved top marks in most classes, and was chosen as a Gryffindor Prefect, and later, Head Boy. He had a respectable job with the Ministry of Magic, which he took very seriously and did well.  
  
You might be asking yourself now, 'How did such an upstanding citizen of the Wizarding community become a Death Eater?' And the answer is simpler than most people realize: lies. He was deceived and caught by the people in authority that he trusted. He was lead away from his home and his family with a carefully laid trap of propaganda about purity of blood and promises of power. This young man who had shown so much promise was seduced by Voldemort and his followers into believing that all he had been taught before by his family, teachers and society was wrong.  
  
In the end, the side that this young man chose betrayed him. He was not killed in battle, fighting valiantly for what he believed to be truth; he was not done-in by Aurors or the MLE during an attempt to flee. Another Death Eater Cold-bloodedly murdered him when he was unable to perform the initiation rite of Voldemort's followers. He couldn't bring himself to kill one of his own family members, and paid the ultimate price for his so- called weakness.  
  
So as I stood at the graveside of this man that was a Son, Brother, Friend and even a Death Eater, I sound myself listening raptly to the words of this man's older brother, as he attempted to convey his feelings to those gathered with these words, which he read from a tattered piece of parchment:  
  
"We are all here today to say good-bye; to mark the passing of my brother from this earth, and to remember him one last time together as a group. As we were growing up, it was my responsibility, as the older brother, to watch over him. It felt good to be in the role of a teacher, and to have him look up to me and try to copy everything I did, and I tried to encourage him when he would try to do better than me. At times, I know I became impatient and cross with him, and resented the burden of being the oldest, always having to set a good example. But, when he followed in my footsteps and did well in school and became a Prefect and Head Boy, I knew that I had done my job well. I suppose that I felt that I had done my job well enough that I no longer needed to look out for my little brother. After all, he was no longer a little boy, and I had my own life to lead. I stopped taking an active interest in his pursuits and, after some time away from home, began to realize that he and I had grown apart in ambition and interests. We had become different in so many ways, that neither of us recognized the other after a while, but he was still my brother, and I loved him. I remember the day my little brother made his choice to leave our family. Angry words were said on both sides, and each side believed their judgment to be the best. I confronted my brother then, and told him that he was doing the wrong thing; I tried to pick up the mantle of Big Brother once more, only to find that it no longer fit. I told him then that if he truly believed that he was right and that we were wrong, then we had nothing more to say to each other. And we didn't. I never really got the chance to speak to him again. I never got to tell his that no matter what side he chose, he was still my brother, and I still loved him. Even then, I never would have believed that he would come to this. I can only imagine what lies and the poison was fed into his mind once he left the shelter of family and home. And so I am here today to tell him that I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not being there to look out for you and to stand up for you when things began to change inside you. We now know that war is upon us all, and we have all made our choices as to which side we will stand with. We have already suffered losses because of it and are bound to suffer more before the end. But for today, I stand here to say good-bye to my brother. I didn't get the chance to say it to him while he was alive, and so now I must try to tell him now that he is gone. Good-bye little brother. I still love you." Perhaps not the most eloquent words ever spoken by mankind, but still a testament to the importance of family and the choices that we all make in life. I, for one, plan to take away from all of this a simple, yet essential lesson: stand together. Don't let fear or greed or false promises rule your life and make you into someone you're not. Don't let another day go by without telling those people that are important to you that you love them._

_ Dedicated to the Memory of Percy Weasley (1977-1996)."  
_  
They had all heard Bill's words, spoken at the graveside earlier that day. They had all shed tears and done their best to fortify each other, but it seemed that Rowan's column had achieved what all of the comforting words and sentiments had not. It opened to door to communication.

"I remember the first time we introduced Percy to his brothers," Molly said, smiling through her tears. "He was skinny and had the trademark red hair, and cried like a banshee. When Bill and Charlie saw him, they looked at his tiny face, screwed up and bawling, and Bill said, 'Is he going to do that all the time?' and Charlie just made a face at him and went back to playing as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened." Her watery chuckle was met with warm smiles from everyone else.

"I remember the first time Bill went to Hogwarts," Arthur said. "It was time to leave for the train station, and we couldn't find Percy or Ginny anywhere."

Ginny sniffled and giggled at the same time. "They found us together crammed into Bill's school trunk. We had tossed everything else out of it, determined that we were going to go to Hogwarts too," she explained. "He almost didn't make it to the train on time."

"I remember the first letter Percy sent me from school," Fred said with a crooked smile. He was undecided at to whether the memory was sad or happy. "George and I had gotten a huge tin of itching powder, and thought he might like to have some to use in pranks at school. We didn't want to part with the entire tin, though, so we just owled him a big envelope full. Needless to say it was a disaster. His first letter to George and me was not as happy as we had expected."

The others laughed at the story, but Fred merely smiled wistfully. "I remember that!" George said, entering with Rowan. "I think I've still got that letter somewhere."

Rowan looked a bit nervous as she came into the kitchen, still wrapped in her cloak, with the smell of autumn air clinging to her. "Mr. And Mrs. Weasley," she said uncertainly. "I can see you've already gotten he paper. I wanted to tell you about the article before you saw it. I hope that you're not angry."

"Angry?" Arthur looked quizzical. "Why should we be angry?"

"Well," Rowan said. "Grief is a very private thing."

"What you wrote was beautiful," Molly assured her, standing and putting her arms around her. "Thank you for sharing it with everyone. Not all of them will understand, but it doesn't matter; it was the truth."

Rowan smiled and returned the embrace, and then she and George joined the group at the table. Fred gave her his seat, and excused himself, even as Ron began to say, "I remember the time Percy caught me coming out a girl's bathroom in my second year..."

Carly, seeing the look of sadness on his face, sent her twin a look that said, _'He'll be okay_,' before giving up her seat as well and following him out.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter Thirty-two**  
  
Fred couldn't explain the anger that was bubbling up inside of him. All he was sure of was that after the memory of the itching powder, he'd felt a rage so intense, that he was seeing a haze of red over everything in front of him. His emotions had been all over the place today, from one extreme to the other, but over all, the anger kept washing over him at unexpected moments. He left the table, and everyone gathered around it, before he exploded and said something inappropriate or unforgivable, and wished viciously that he'd disappeared with Bill and Charlie; they had offered to take him along. He knew vaguely that Carly had followed him inside, but he didn't want to talk to her... how would he explain this sudden fury, when only minutes ago they had been talking quietly and looking at the emerging stars together? He went into his room and sat on his bed, with his back deliberately facing the door.  
  
"I don't want company right now," he said quietly, trying to keep his voice level as he sensed he standing in the doorway. He didn't want to hurt her feelings on top of everything else.  
  
"Too bad," came the reply. But it wasn't the voice he had expected; he turned around to find his mother approaching him, and coming to sit beside him. "Because I think that you do."  
  
Molly had seen the expressions crossing Fred's face at the table. She understood every one of them with excruciating familiarity, and so she had caught up with Rowan and asked her to let her have a mother/son moment. She had been watching all of her children carefully over the past couple of days, and was worried about each and every one in a different way. Right now, Fred needed something from her, and she intended to give it to him, whether he thought he wanted it or not. Fred merely looked through her as he waited for her to talk at him; it was a tactic that she knew well from the times during his childhood, when he hadn't wanted to listen.  
  
"Today's been hard," she began.  
  
Fred nodded. That was an understatement if there had ever been one. He knew that there would be no getting rid of his Mum until she'd had her say, and so he sat and waited for her to get with it. It would be over soon enough, and then he could get back to his anger in peace.  
  
"You're angry at Percy," she observed.  
  
'Well that's pretty obvious,' Fred thought sourly. "No big maternal insight there."  
  
"You know what?" Molly asked, seeing the derision in his eyes. "I am too."  
  
That brought his head up. His mother had looked many ways since that night: incredibly sad, disbelieving, tired, thoughtful, determined... but angry? 'Surely not,' he thought. His gaze was no longer the vacant stare it had been a moment before, but a probing one. Could she really be telling the truth?  
  
"No," Molly corrected firmly. "I'm furious! I didn't raise any of my children to hide behind some stupid mask!"  
  
Fred was shocked at the venom in his mother's voice. He eyes were glinting with the feelings that her son hadn't thought she would be able to feel at a time like this. Her breathing was a bit heavy as she let the anger really show.  
  
"I didn't make all of those sacrifices for all of those years to have my son turn his back on his family and actually consider killing his own brother!" She ranted, tears now gathering in her eyes. "I didn't praise him for his accomplishments and bolster his self confidence to have it thrown back in my face as 'not good enough'! I DID NOT RAISE A DEATH EATER!"  
  
Fred didn't even realize that he had tears on his cheeks. He threw himself into his mother's waiting arms and finally, finally, wept for the first time since he had seen Percy's lifeless body fall to the ground. Molly gave a shaky sigh of satisfaction as the dam inside him burst at last, as she had been waiting for it to do. He needed this release, she knew, as much as it hurt her to hear and feel the sobs ripping through his sturdy frame. She rubbed circles on his back and murmured, "It's okay. It's okay, love." The storm within him began to subside, and he sat up, wiping his eyes on his robes.  
  
"It's okay to be angry, Fred," Molly said quietly, lovingly caressing his damp cheek. "As long as you don't let it consume you. There's no shame in being angry with all of this; it doesn't mean that we don't love Percy, or that we failed him. It means that while we loved your brother, we're angry and disappointed at the way he chose to live his life. It wasn't your fault or anyone else's in this family that he was killed. That includes you, George."  
  
She had seen George's reflection in the window across from her. He was standing framed in the doorway, with a stricken look on his face. He looked to Fred, who wiped his face once more and said, "Come on in, bro."  
  
"I'm sorry," he said, sitting on the other side of his mother. "I heard the shouting and I was worried."  
  
"It's okay," Molly assured him, taking his hand in hers and giving it a pat.  
  
"I was angry, too," George admitted. "I blew up at Rowan yesterday. Luckily for me, she understood."  
  
"And how do you feel now?" Molly asked.  
  
"Guilty, I guess," came the truthful answer. "Ever since Percy's speech about all the humiliation we piled on him when we were growing up, I can't shaking the feeling. We never did any of that stuff to hurt him. Well – not most of it. We were just trying to have fun. I think that we thought we could help him develop a sense of humor; it was just our way of including him in our lives. Now I can't help wondering if we did him serious damage with all of our pranks and jokes. I keep telling myself that maybe if we'd listened to him more, or given him a bit more respect, if he wouldn't have..."  
  
"It wouldn't have made a difference."  
  
They all turned their heads to see Ron, standing in the doorway looking sad. He came in, and they all shifted, so that he could sit with them, too.  
  
"It wouldn't have mattered," Ron said. "Because I did listen to him more. I did give him respect most of the time. I let him boss me around and tell me what to do. We had our arguments as much as any brothers do, I guess, but nothing too major. Look what I got in return – a letter telling me that I should turn into a duplicate of him, and abandon my own friends and family in favor of sucking up to some little Ministry toad who was blatantly feeding all of the student at Hogwarts a bunch of lies about Voldemort. Maybe he really believed the Ministry at that point, but how much longer could it have been before he found out the truth? What did he do then? Not make the apology he said he was so ready to 'graciously accept' from Mum and Dad, that's for sure!"  
  
Fred and George thought that this was probably the longest speech they had ever made Ron make. When had their twerpy little brother turned into someone who had important things to say? Now there was a half-grown man sitting here, venting some of his own anger, and what he had to say was all making total sense.  
  
"Something went wrong with him," Ron continued with surety in his voice. "The minute he found out that the Ministry had been wrong, he should have turned around and come home. He should have done something to help spread the word. He should have admitted it! It's what any of us would have done, and so I know that Mum is right – she didn't raise a Death Eater."  
  
Molly looked proudly at her sons, not the least bit embarrassed that she must have shouted loud enough for the whole house to hear earlier. Ron was the baby of all of her boys, and now just look at the man he was turning into!  
  
"Anyway," Ron finished, looking slightly embarrassed at his outburst. "That's what I think."  
  
"You're right," George told him, slapping him companionably on the shoulder. "And I, for one, needed to hear that."  
  
Fred nodded and used his good hand to squeeze the back of Ron's neck affectionately. They had all need to hear it.  
  
"Now," Molly said, more to herself than to her boys, wiping at her eyes again. "Where have Bill and Charlie gone off to?"  
  
"Oh," George said matter-of-factly. "Charlie took Bill off somewhere in Diagon Alley to get drunk."  
  
"Honestly!" Molly muttered, without much heat. If the truth were to be told, she'd have joined them if she were thirty years younger. She stood and winked at her boys, then left them alone. She passed Harry in the hallway, and paused to give him a hug, almost brought to tears again when he whispered, "I love you, Mum."  
  
Things were starting to look brighter after the darkness of the past three days. 


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter Thirty-three**  
  
"George Edward Weasley!" Carly had overheard Molly calling him that once, and had committed it to memory for just such and occasion.  
  
"Shhhh!" George said, holding a finger to his lips. He was kneeling on the floor next to the sofa where Charlie was sprawled, fast asleep. He and Bill hadn't gotten in until three a.m., both as drunk as it was humanly possible to get without need for hospitalization. Bill had taken a potion to take away most of his hangover, but it was Charlie's bad luck that he was allergic to one of the key ingredients to the potion, and so had to suffer through it. If he didn't wake up still drunk, he was likely to have a heck of a bad head, and if George was really lucky, a gap in his memory.  
  
Carly walked over to where George to see what he was doing, and crouched next to him. "What are you doing?" she asked. He appeared to be gently smearing a clear cream on Charlie's lips with a cotton swab. "What is that stuff?"  
  
"It doesn't have a name yet," George said with a silly grin on his face.  
  
"What does it do?" her lips were twitching against her desire to grin back. He was obviously pulling a wicked prank on his brother.  
  
"Grows hair," he said. "Or I should say fur."  
  
"You're making your brother grow fur on his lips?" she asked with raised eyebrows, struggling not to let out the laugh that was trying to escape.  
  
"Uh-huh," he answered.  
  
"Well don't forget to put some on his palms," Carly answered with a grin, taking one of the swabs and loading it up with the ointment.  
  
Ginny came into the room a moment later to find George and Carly biting down on their bottom lips, giggling as the covered Charlie's palms in something out of a jar bearing the WWW logo. Shaking her head, she joined them, asking, "What does it do, and how long does it take to work?"  
  
When Harry walked into the room a moment later, he found the three of them sitting on the floor in front of a sleeping Charlie, who was covered head to tow in soot from what looked like the Floo ride from Hell, with their shoulders shaking.  
  
"Shhhh!" Ginny said, swatting at George.  
  
"It should only take about another ten seconds," George said.  
  
As Harry watched. Something began to happen to Charlie's face. Something looked like it was growing from his lips... something furry. George was pounding the floor with his fist in his mirth, and Ginny and Carly (he thought it was Carly since she was wearing lime green robes) were laughing so hard that they had tears running down their cheeks. He made a mental note to find out what they had used on Charlie and add it the long, long list of items that he kept in his head of things to watch out for while around the Weasleys. He was already careful not to eat or drink anything that they offered him, unless it was Mrs. Weasley dishing up the food. He was still trying to recover from the time Fred had tricked him into eating a 'special' bag of Fizzing Whizbees. Instead of the gentle levitation the candy was known to cause, Harry had rocketed to the common room ceiling and had been stuck there for over two hours while people made stupid comments such as, 'What's up, Harry?' when they saw him. What they would have done if he had eaten them while outside was something Harry didn't like to think about. At any rate, he would be back at Hogwarts by bedtime tonight, and would be marginally safer from their hijinx there. A sample of the fur-growing stuff to take back might be cool, though. He wondered what would happen if he dissolved some into Malfoy's tea; maybe he could get Dobby help him to pull it off. Then he wondered if Snape had a private bathroom in his office... a little of that stuff on a toilet seat had definite possibilities.  
  
Fred came into the room, and knew immediately what was up. "Get out of here!" he hissed. "If he wakes up and sees you all watching him, he'll know it's a trick!"  
  
All of them left Charlie there and went to the kitchen, leaving the door open so that they could hear him if he woke. Toolah looked at them all suspiciously, but served up sausages and eggs cheerfully enough. Ron soon joined them, his hair damp, and grinning as he saw Charlie on his way to breakfast. He joined the group at the table and got caught up on what they had done. They were all starting their meal when they heard Rowan saying from nearby, "Oh my God!" then her laughter as she came into the kitchen as demanded, "Why wasn't I allowed to help?"  
  
"I have an entirely different prank in mind for you to try out later," George said mysteriously.  
  
"So what are we doing today?" Ginny asked as she buttered her toast.  
  
"Mum says you three have to finish your school work this morning," Fred said, gesturing to Harry, Ron and Ginny with his fork. "Then she's letting you come to Diagon Alley for a couple of hours with us. George and I are going to see Carly and Rowan to work, and then take care of some business at Gringotts and the shop. By then you three should be ready, and we'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron; Mum'll send you by Floo."  
  
"I wish we didn't have to go back to Hogwarts so soon," Ron groused.  
  
"Don't you want to get back to Hermione?" Harry asked with an overly innocent air that made Ron eyes narrow in warning.  
  
"Why didn't she come along, anyway?" George asked, mercifully sparing Ron some teasing at his apparently new development – that could wait until later. "Her parents he spooked about the attacks?"  
  
"Yeah, they were," Ron nodded. "But had a big exam coming in Arithmancy, and she's also the only other Gryffindor Prefect, and with the stuff that's been going on, McGonagall thought it would be best that she stay behind."  
  
"She sent Mum and Dad a really nice letter, though," Ginny added.  
  
"Do you think you'll be done with your schoolwork by noon?" George asked as he took a bite of his eggs.  
  
"I've only got Potions left," Harry said with a grimace. "Stupid Snape."  
  
"I can't believe you got a high enough grade on your O.W.L. to get into the class." Ron said. "Come to think of it, I can't believe I did!"  
  
"I think McGonagall or Dumbledore intervened in my case," Harry said. "Stupid Snape."  
  
"I've only got a paper for Charms. It'll only take be about a half an hour," Ginny said.  
  
"Good," Fred said, "We can have lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, then."  
  
Rowan, Carly, Fred and George all exited. No one thought to leave instructions on how Charlie was supposed to remove the fur.  
  
"So," Fred asked Carly as they walked along the corridor that led to her cubicle. "Have you had time to look over the files that Swift gave you?"  
  
"I read all of them, but I haven't made a decision yet, I should make up my mind by tomorrow, though, so I'll want to really think it over tonight. Are you going to be around? I'd like to have you as a sounding board and get your opinion." She said as they neared her desk.  
  
"Winters." Marcus Appleby had just emerged from his own workspace and sniffed in greeting, completely ignoring Fred.  
  
"Appleby." Carly answered with her own rude sniff. She grinned at Fred as she reached her own desk.  
  
"I'll pick you up after work," he said, gathering her in for a kiss.  
  
"I'll see you then," she smiled. "I can't wait to hear what happened with Charlie."  
  
Carly took off her cloak and hung it on a nearby hook, and set down her bag. She left her desk to go and collect files, when she spotted Fred stepping into Marcus's cubicle.  
  
"What are you doing?" she hissed.  
  
"I'm just leaving him a little present," Fred said innocently. He had a yellow lollipop in his hand, and Marcus's desk drawer open; without a any compunction, he dropped the sweet into the drawer and covered it with a quill.  
  
"What is that?" She asked suspiciously.  
  
"It won't hurt him," he assured her. "It's a new product called Sonorous Suckers. They'll just make everything he says come out amplified until he or someone else uses the Quietus charm on him."  
  
"You're incorrigible," she laughed, leaving the scene of the crime with him. "That's one of the reasons I love you."  
  
George walked up the staircase at the Daily Prophet with Rowan. They were both still chuckling over Charlie's condition as they rounded the corner that would lead them to her new office, only to find Rita Skeeter, wand out, trying to open the door. A casual glance downward had him noticing that she was wearing sparkly high-heeled shoes. 'Well now,' he thought to himself, 'Isn't that interesting?"  
  
"Is there something you needed, Rita?" Rowan asked sweetly, making the other woman jump guiltily.  
  
"Yes, as a matter of fact," Rita bit out, angry at being caught. "My notes for the article I was writing about Dumbledore's complacent behavior during the Hogsmeade attack."  
  
"Complacent behavior!" George's outraged reaction came out only slightly quieter than a roar.  
  
Rowan and Rita merely raised an eyebrow at him as Rita said snidely, "Control your attack dog, Rowan and give me my notes."  
  
Rowan simply looked Rita in the eye and said, "I haven't seen your notes. From the sound of your chosen topic, though, I would guess that they got thrown away as the complete rubbish they are."  
  
"SKEETER!" The booming voice of Mr. Starsmore rumbled across the newsroom like thunder. He was striding to the center of the cubicles waving a sheaf of the light green parchment that Rita always used in the air.  
  
"Oh," Rowan smiled wickedly. "I guess I was wrong. It looks like they're only about to be thrown out as the rubbish they are."  
  
"IN MY OFFICE NOW!" he bellowed as he caught sight of her.  
  
She glared at Rowan before turning with a grinding of her teeth and stalking off toward the boss's office.  
  
George looked at Rowan shrewdly and said, "You gave him her notes, didn't you?"  
  
"Of course I did," she answered, removing the charm that she used to keep out intruders as she opened her door. "Fudge might have been able to tell this paper what to print before, but Starsmore doesn't have to take orders from him anymore. He's not going to stand for that garbage now that everyone knows that Dumbledore was right all along."  
  
"Good for you," he said, kissing her.  
  
"Good for us all," she said. "I have to go out to Birmingham today. No, don't look at me like that; I'll have a photographer with me, and we're going by Floo straight to a house and back. It'll be fine."  
  
"All right," he agreed. She had handled herself well on the night Percy had betrayed them, and he felt better knowing that she was fast on her feet. "Just be careful. I love you."  
  
"I love you, too," she smiled. "You be careful yourself."  
He left her in her office, and made a short detour to Rita's office, where he quickly coated the backside of her doorknob in the ointment they had used on Charlie. He was still whistling when he ran into Fred at the door of their shop. 


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter Thirty-Four**  
  
"Hey Lee!" George called as they entered the shop. He immediately noted that two of the shop's delivery owls were missing from their perches.  
  
"Hey guys," Lee said, coming out of the back, wiping his hands on an apron. "That fur growing stuff is ready to be bottled up. The bottles should be delivered anytime, now, in fact. Have you decided what you're going to call it yet?"  
  
"Still working on it," Fred said, taking off his cloak one-handedly and tossing it onto a hook in the tiny office. "But it worked great on Charlie."  
  
Lee grinned at the two boys he'd basically grown up with. He was glad to see them looking so well after witnessing the grief and pain stamped into their faces the day before. "I wish I could have seen it," he said.  
  
"You still might," George smirked. "He was out cold when we put it on him, and I don't know if he knows how to get the stuff off. He might show up here, or at least in the fire anytime. Got drunk as a lord last night, so we're hoping that he won't quite remember what he might have done to cause it."  
  
"Good one!" Lee laughed. "Well business here has been all right. I was kind of surprised; I thought that people would be too spooked after Halloween to come out here, but they are. And there hasn't been much decline in Owl Orders. A big one came in from Beauxbatons on Saturday, and I had to charge them extra for postage and hire an Eagle Owl from the Owl Post Office to take the load. There's also someone at Durmstrang who makes regular orders for Skiving Snack Boxes. I think that he might be buying them and then re-selling them at an inflated cost. Might be worth it to send some discreet advertising to some of the students there."  
  
"Good thinking," George said, slapping him on the back. "So do you think you can hold things down here for one more day? Fred and I should be okay to come in tomorrow, and you can take a couple of days off."  
  
"Sure," Lee said. "No problem; I love it here!"  
  
"Great," Fred said. "We'll stop by later this afternoon to check on stuff."  
  
Lee waved them off, and they wasted no time in heading off to Gringotts. As they walked, George told Fred about Rowan's little encounter with Rita Skeeter.  
  
"And she was wearing the same shoes as the kind Eunice said she saw on the person who tried to break into the girls' flat weeks ago?" Fred asked thoughtfully. "Interesting."  
  
They agreed that it bore more investigation, and decided to brainstorm over it later, when Rowan and Carly were present. They might be able to shed some light on the subject. They reached the bank, and had a short meeting with a goblin named Gashmark concerning some Weasleys Wizard Wheezes business, and then went to their personal vaults to withdraw some money. They had a busy day ahead of them, and it was already coming up on noon. It was time to meet Ron, Harry and Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron by the time they finished their banking.  
  
Ginny stepped out of the Floo almost the moment the twins entered the pub; Harry was next, followed closely by Ron. They dusted themselves off and chose a table in a corner where they could talk privately, but still see most of their surroundings. They all ordered when the waitress came, and sat back with warm Butterbeers while they waited for their meals to arrive.  
  
"So did Charlie ever wake up?" Fred asked curiously.  
  
Harry, Ginny and Ron immediately began laughing hardily. Ginny was able to compose herself first, so she told the story.  
  
"Nigel and Suzette came in, and we were all at the table," she said, still laughing as she spoke. "When Charlie stumbles into the kitchen and says "Why the hell are my hands and lips covered in hair?"  
  
The three began to laugh even harder. George couldn't remember ever seeing Harry carry on like that, but the tears were streaming from his eyes, and making him and Fred laugh because of it. He supposed it was one of those things that happen when grief strikes; the bad things make the funny things even funnier sometimes.  
  
"Then Nigel," Ginny continued after gasping for air, "says, 'I don't know about the lips, but I know was causes hair to grow on your palms, and I must say..." she paused to catch her breath, but only laughed harder because now the twins were roaring as well. "And I must say that if you would like, I could introduce you to some very nice young ladies...."  
  
Ginny couldn't finish the story, for all the laughter going on. Ron picked up the story from there, and said, "Charlie turned soooo red, and I swear you could have fried an egg on his face! It was Suzette who finally calmed him down and figured out how to get rid of the hair."  
  
They all settled down slowly as their lunches were delivered, wiping their eyes. Fred hoped that people didn't think it improper or callous that they were acting so happy the day after they had buried a brother. He guessed that it didn't matter much what other people thought; his family was healing, and laughter was looking to be the best medicine.  
  
"Oh yeah," Harry said suddenly. "Nigel said to tell you that he wants the biggest container of that stuff you can get him by next Thursday."  
  
"Excellent," Fred smiled. "The ultimate seal of approval!"  
  
"And Ginny," Harry said, blushing slightly. "How did you know about the whole hairy palms thing?"  
  
"Harry – please," she said, her tone one that said the answer should be obvious. "I have six brothers. I've heard all of the old wife's tales in one form or another practically since I was born."  
  
Harry didn't have a reply to that, but his face was still pink as he picked up his sandwich.  
  
"So," George said after he had paid for the meal and they finished their Butterbeer. "Do you two guys think you can keep yourselves busy for an hour while Fred and I take Ginny on an errand?"  
  
"No problem," Ron answered, looking at Harry with a grin. 'Quality Quidditch Supplies here we come!' was written all over both boys' faces.  
  
"Good," George said, then pulled an item that looked as if it had come from a Skiving Snack Box out of his pocket. It was orange on one side and black on the other. "Harry – eat this."  
  
"I don't think so," Harry said, leaning as far away from it as his seat would allow.  
  
"Don't worry," he assured Harry. "It'll just help you blend in a bit better, so no one will recognize you."  
  
When Harry still didn't take it, Fred said, "I swear by all I hold to be funny that this will not hurt or humiliate you in anyway."  
  
He studied the serious faces of the twins for a moment, and then took the candy-like item from George. "Which end?" he asked bravely.  
  
"Orange," came the answer from both Fred and George at once.  
  
Taking a deep breath, with Ron and Ginny watching in fascination, Harry bit into the chewy pellet and chewed. He didn't feel any different as he swallowed, and took it as a good sign. Ginny was now grinning at him, and pulling a small mirror out of her bag for him to see himself in.  
  
"You're a Weasley now," Fred grinned.  
  
Harry looked into the mirror with trepidation to find that his hair had turned from coal black to Weasley red in color. Everything else about him was the same.  
  
"Just eat the black end when you're ready to be Harry Potter again, otherwise it'll take a couple of days to wear off." George said. "No one will recognize you now. Meet us at our shop in two hours."  
  
Harry thought that, as nice as the Weasley's were, he much preferred his own hair color. Still it was a great disguise, and would allow him to travel around Diagon Alley for a couple of hours with out the guard he hated so much. Ron nudged his arm, and they waved to the others before they left the pub eagerly.  
  
"Okay," Ginny said, gathering her cloak and beating a little more of the soot from it before putting it on. "What's this errand you need me for?"  
  
"We need a female's opinion," George said.  
  
"We're going to buy rings," Fred added.  
  
"Let's go then!" Ginny smiled gleefully. Her brothers were going to give her twin sisters! She could hardly contain herself at the prospect as she followed them down the cobbled street to an offshoot of Diagon Alley called Vertic Alley, and into the goldsmith's shop. Fred and George examined ring after ring, getting Ginny's opinion, and making her try each one on. Finally Ginny gave he approval on two separate rings, and her brothers agreed, and paid for them. It was all so perfect and romantic in Ginny's mind, and she only laughed at the slight green color in George's face as they exited the shop with two pretty carved ring boxes in their pockets.  
  
"Wow," Ginny said as they walked. "I can't believe that the two of you are really going to get married."  
  
"Believe it," Fred answered firmly. There was no doubt in his mind at all about the decision he had made; he was ready. He wasn't really too concerned that George looked faintly ill; they had just spent a pretty large amount of money, and a lot more was going to be changing in a very short amount of time, after all.  
  
"George," Ginny said, somewhat more concerned about him. "You know, you don't have to get married just because Fred is. This is something you need to be very, very sure about."  
  
"I am sure!" George assured her vehemently. "It's just a big decision, and I just got a sudden thought in my head as we were paying for the rings. What is she says 'no'?"  
  
"Don't be ridiculous!" Ginny scoffed. "I've seen the way she looks at you, especially when you're not paying attention. If that girl isn't head over heels in love with you, then I'm a Crumple-Horned Snorkak! And don't you dare let on that you had the slightest doubt in your head, or she'll mop the floor with you."  
  
"Ginny's right," Fred said seriously. "She loves you. Enough to put up with you forever."  
  
"You don't have any doubt at all that Carly might say 'no'?" George asked with a hint of skepticism in his tone.  
  
"Nope," Fred replied airily. "Let's face it, I'm irresistible!"  
  
Ginny snorted, but was quite pleased with the choices her brothers were making. She had no doubt at all that Rowan and Carly would accept the challenge of becoming Weasleys. They still had about twenty minutes to spare, so they took Ginny to Madam Malkin's and bought her a pretty new cloak as a thank you gift.  
  
They arrived at the shop to find that Harry (whose hair was back to normal) and Ron were already there, filling a basket with several new items. Lee was demonstrating the self- filling self-launching water balloons (Weasley's Wild Wet Ones), and they all ducked when one came flying toward them, and sailed out through the open door to burst in the street.  
  
"Hey Guys!" Lee said when he spotted the twins and Ginny. "Those bottles came in right after you left, so I packaged them up. Tell me what you think!"  
  
He retreated to behind the counter and brought out a blue bottle with a wide mouth. The label bore the WWW logo and below that read 'Bearding Balm' with instructions for use on the back.  
  
"Brilliant!" Fred said, passing it over to show the others.  
  
"What would we do without you?" George said with a grin, wrapping a playful arm around his friend's neck.  
  
"Let's hope you never have to find out," Lee retorted, struggling to get out of the headlock George had put him in.  
  
"We won't," Fred said confidently. "Because as of today, you're a part owner in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes."  
  
"One-sixth, owner, in fact," George told him, releasing him and producing a folded piece of parchment from his pocket. "It's official."  
  
"Happy Birthday," they said together, grinning at the stunned look on Lee's face.  
  
Ron whispered, 'Wow!' reverently in the background as Harry and Ginny looked on in amazement. Ginny smiled and slipped the bottle Harry had just handed her into her pocket while everyone was occupied, and winked when he looked at her with raised eyebrows.  
  
"And," Fred continued, "because it's long past due, ta-da!" He produced another piece of parchment and held it out to Harry.  
  
Harry, much as he had with the orange and black chew they had offered him earlier, backed away and held up his hands in protest.  
  
"Go on, Harry, take it!" George urged. "If it wasn't for your Tri-Wizard winnings, we wouldn't have been able to pull this store off of for at least another few years."  
  
"Yeah," Fred agreed. "And then I might have never met Carly. Take it."  
  
"Are you mad, Harry?" Ron hissed, as Harry still appeared apprehensive. "Take it!"  
  
Harry looked at everyone gathered around him, looking at him expectantly, and at Lee Jordan's still surprised, but happy, face and made a decision. He took the parchment.  
  
"Good man!" Fred said, and slapped him on the back.  
  
"I don't know what to say!" Lee stammered, as the rest of them got ready to leave. "I never expected this."  
  
"I don't know why not," George said, as he bagged up the items that were going to be making the trip back to Hogwarts. "You've been in on the planning of everything since we were eleven; it's only right that you own a piece of it now. We're all going to be very rich men eventually."  
  
They left a beaming Lee behind the counter and walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron. Fred was feeling content and satisfied with the way the important people and things were falling into place in his life, and intended to work hard to keep it that way. When Harry fell into step beside him, he wasn't surprised; he had half expected Harry to approach with him or George, or both of them about what they had done. He was confident that he could convince Harry that they had done the right thing.  
  
"Fred," Harry began. "I really appreciate what you and George did just now, but I have to ask you a favor."  
  
"What's that?" This was certainly not the conversation he had imagined.  
  
"Change the name on my share into Ron's name," Harry said quietly not wanting to be overheard.  
  
Fred stopped in his tracks, and Harry did as well. The others hadn't noticed and walked on, unconcerned. "Are you sure about this?" Fred asked, after seeing that Harry was in earnest about his request.  
  
"Yes," Harry said firmly. "I have more than I could possibly need from my parents."  
  
"If this is what you want," Fred said thoughtfully, "I'll certainly do it, but I don't want you to feel like you have to."  
  
"I don't," Harry said. "In fact, I don't want him to even know about it until after he leaves Hogwarts. Just open a vault in his name, and put his share of the profits away for him until then."  
  
"You got it," Fred said, sealing the deal with a handshake. 'It looks like we're all growing up,' he thought as they caught up with the others. 


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter Thirty-Five**  
  
"So when are you going to ask them?" Ginny asked Fred and George, who were sitting on the edge of her bed as she packed her things for the trip back to school.  
  
They still had a few hours until it was time to leave, but she wanted a chance to take another look around the Burrow before then. Ron and Harry were busy packing their things, as well.  
  
"When it's time," Fred shrugged. "I suppose that I'll wait for the right moment."  
  
George nodded and added, "I'll just know."  
  
"I suppose that's true," Ginny sighed. "I was just hoping that I would be here for the celebration when Mum finds out! I'll probably be able to hear her shouting for joy all the way at Hogwarts, anyway."  
  
She finished her packing, and they met Ron and Harry in the entryway. Charlie came as well, and glared at the twins, though he didn't say anything about the fur incident, as he had no proof yet. He might be the easiest going of the Weasley children, but he was no less devious when he put his mind to it; the twins knew that they had better watch out when the truth came out. He produced the portkey and sent the youngest three on their way, and then he, Fred and George Apparated.  
  
Where they had left a large pile of salvaged items, there was now a large shed, similar to the one that had been burned down with all of Mr. Weasley's Muggle 'toys'. Charlie had been hard at work here today, building a shelter for their belongings, and moving them all in.  
  
"Wow, Charlie," Ron said, impressed. "You really got a lot done here by yourself."  
  
"Well, a couple of members of the Order showed up for an hour or so and lent a hand," he admitted. "I also went into the village with Tonks, and she showed me how to use a telephone, and I phoned a lumberyard. I had to give him directions from the village, but he'll deliver a load here tomorrow. Kingsley Shacklebolt said he'd come by and help to modify the delivery driver's memory and change the delivery order to look like he'd delivered to a residential address in town. They're nice people."  
  
"That's right," George said. "You wouldn't have met them yet; at least not face-to face. What did you think of Tonks?"  
  
"We should be able to start the rebuilding process pretty soon," Charlie told them, ignoring the last question, and pulling a large roll of parchment from his pocket and unrolling it on a nearby crate. "Mundungus 'found' some plans for a nice house that I think would be better suited to Mum and Dad now that most of us are out on our own. It's got five bedrooms, so that there'll be room enough for when everyone visits. Barely. There will be a nice big kitchen like before, an office for Dad, and sewing room for Mum. It measurements, it's about he same size as the old house, just laid out differently."  
  
"Sounds good." Fred said. "A bit more conventional than what we had, but that's not necessarily a bad thing."  
  
"I think that it's probably the type of house they would've liked to have had, if they'd been able to afford it." Ginny said fairly. "I think that they'll love it."  
  
"Dad's already seen the plans, and he approves. I think Mum will too."  
  
He took them on a tour of where everything would be laid out, and showed them where cement would have to be poured to accommodate the new layout. "It will be three stories tall, plus have an attic for Bump."  
  
"He survived?" Fred asked with surprise. That ghoul had lived in their attic for as long as any of them could remember.  
  
"Yep," Charlie smiled. "He must have been sleeping in one of the old trunks that Ron dug out the other day when the house collapsed, and was too frightened to come out after that. Scared the living daylights out of me when I opened the trunk to check it's contents and found him in there. He's happy enough in the shed for now, until the new place is built."  
  
"So how long do you think it will take to get it done?" Ron asked.  
  
"My guess would be, weather permitting, we should be able to have them back home by Christmas." Charlie said. "That is, if we can get the help we need."  
  
"Fred and I will do as much as we can to help," George said, "And so will Bill."  
  
Fred and George went back to look at the plans again, and Ron and Ginny went to look inside the shed. Harry waited until he was alone with Charlie and pulled a large bag from his pocket. "I want you to take this," he said to Charlie quietly. "I know your parents would never accept it from me, but I want to do this. Use it to hire workers or whatever else you need to get things done by Christmas."  
  
Charlie took the bag out of instinct, and his eyes widened at the weight of it. "Harry, this is a lot of money," he said, keeping his voice low.  
  
"I know," Harry said. "I also know that you and Bill and the twins are putting in a lot of money too. This is the first place that ever felt like home to me. I want the chance to make it that way again. I can afford it."  
  
Charlie nodded, but promised himself that he would see that some of it made it's way back into Harry's vault. From the feel of the bag, there had to be somewhere in the neighborhood of two thousand Galleons inside. He knew from conversations with others in the family that Harry was more than adequately provided for as far as finances went, but this was really...  
  
"I can almost read your mind," Harry smiled crookedly, his eyes serious. "Don't worry about how much it is. Just use it."  
  
He walked away to join the others, leaving Charlie looking after him with an expression of wonder on his face. He had been worried about how they would furnish the house once it was built, but it seemed that he needn't have been. With a little help from everyone, the Burrow would be a home again sooner than he could have hoped, for his parent's sake.  
  
Dinner that night was crowded. Bill and Fleur came, and so there were fourteen of them around a table that had been built to comfortable seat a dozen. Toolah had grudgingly allowed Molly to help with the dinner, and now they were all happily consuming the feast and talking about their day. It was a jovial event, and everyone was finishing their dessert when Arthur finally said, "It's almost time for Ron, Ginny and Harry to take the portkey back."  
  
They all went into the entryway where the cases that they had packed were waiting. Ron, Harry and Ginny all thanked Nigel and Suzette for their hospitality, and said good-bye to everyone with lots of kisses, hugs, and handshakes.  
  
"One minute," Arthur said, handing the book they had used when they had arrived to Harry. "This will take you right back to Dumbledore's office."  
  
Ron and Ginny reached out and took hold.  
  
"Hey!" Fred called out when there was only a few seconds left. "Stay downwind from Malfoy – I'd be surprised if his Housemates don't make him sleep outside in a tent after the letter he got today."  
  
Ron grinned, Harry winked at them and Ginny laughed outright. A moment later they were gone. Molly's eyes were bright as they turned to leave the entryway, and Suzette had just put a friendly arm around her shoulders when the doorbell rang. Within seconds, everyone in the room had a wand in their hand, and Nigel approached the door cautiously. He bent at the waist to look out the window beside the door, and then let out a whoop and swung the door open wide.  
  
There were two young men in traveling cloaks on the doorstep, carrying a large trunk between them. As they stepped into the entryway, the light glinted off of red hair, and Rowan and Carly let out a squeal and launched themselves forward.  
  
"Kyle! Patrick!"  
  
The two newcomers hugged the girls with enthusiasm, and would have earned a scowl from Fred, had he not recognized the names from Carly's reminiscing about her family. Her two older brothers had arrived.  
  
Suzette hugged her nephews tightly, and Nigel clapped them on the back as he turned to his guests. "These two fine boys are my brother's other children, Kyle and Patrick. They've come to the aid of the Ministry to bolster the Auror and MLE divisions. As you all know, the new Minister has asked for Wizarding Communities from around the world to send any reinforcements that they have available for the next year."  
  
Arthur stepped forward to shake their hands, and Nigel introduced them. "This is Arthur Weasley. He's just been appointed Head of Magical Law Enforcement, and you'll probably be reporting to him when you start."  
  
"His lovely wife, Molly," he continued, as Molly stepped forward to shake their hands as well. "Bill, their oldest, Charlie, of course you know George, and Fred."  
  
"Great to see you again," George said. He had met them during his trip to the States, and had enjoyed their company.  
  
"We're glad we could come," Patrick said. He was the younger of the two, but still older than Rowan and Carly by two years.  
  
Kyle turned to Molly and Arthur and said sincerely, "We were very sorry to hear about your loss. If there's anything we can to do to help, please just say the word,"  
  
"Thank you," Molly said warmly. "We're so happy to meet more of Carly and Rowan's family."  
  
As they turned to go into the living room, George turned to Kyle and asked, "So... how are you at carpentry?"  
  
Once again, it was late by the time everyone got to bed. 


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter Thirty-six**  
  
The following weeks seemed to slip by quickly for everyone. A proper Wizarding election was held, and an overwhelming majority voted Madam Amelia Bones in as the new Minister for Magic. Arthur Weasley was given the position at the Head of Magical Law Enforcement on a permanent basis, and worked long hours to make Wizarding Britain as secure as possible. The Dark Mark still appeared with worrying regularity around the country, but even so, Azkaban was filling up again with those who were being recaptured or caught participating in dark activities. The Order was slowly gathering more and more members, with a network now of reliable intelligence all over Europe that helped to prevent attacks on the scale that had taken place on Halloween.  
  
In the course of the trials of the Death Eaters who were captured on Halloween night, it had been revealed by those wanting to escape harsh punishment, that Percy Weasley, while acting of his own free will most of the time he was in association with the Death Eaters, had also been impersonated at times by means of Polyjuice Potion for missions within the Ministry and in public places that his presence would be more easily explained than that of a higher ranked Death Eater. Arthur Weasley, however, who presided over the trials, did not seem to think that these revelations warranted an easier punishment for those who provided the information. He was quoted in a Daily Prophet article as saying, "The idea that you could betray both the Wizarding community and the Dark Lord whom you serve tells me that far from being given a lighter sentence, you deserve a harsher one. You have proven to the whole world that you are loyal to, and can be trusted by no one, and so I suggest to the Wizengamot that you be sentenced to a lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban. You should be thankful that the Dementors are no longer in the keeping of that facility."  
  
Rowan's new column at the paper was an immediate success, and quickly became quite popular. It seemed that her unique "outsider" views of the current state of Wizarding Britain gave her stories a fresh perspective and general appeal. Rita Skeeter had quieted down considerably once Fred and George confronted her with the fact that they knew that it was her who had tried to break into Carly and Rowan' flat. She had grudgingly admitted that she had been trying to obtain some of Rowan's notes, because she was angry that a new comer was being given so much space in the paper. She also accused Rowan of stealing her notes regarding Peter Pettigrew's innocence, but Rowan simply said that after she had found out that Rita was withholding knowledge that an innocent man had gone to prison, she felt obliged to do something about it. Rowan and Rita had developed a tolerable, if tense, working relationship. After receiving a letter from Ginny (who had never made any promises to Rita), George casually let Rita know that, should she act out again, word might get out that she was an Animagus, and had used her ability to keep from being caught in unethical situations on more than one occasion.  
  
Carly had taken several hours to study each field of study open to her from the Healers who had applied to take her on as an apprentice, and chose her mentor carefully. She decided to make Spell Damage the focus of her apprenticeship, and was pleased when she was gladly accepted into an advanced program reserved for only the very best. She confided in Fred that, when her training was finished, she would like to work as a privately practicing Healer, making house calls to those who those who needed healing, but could not necessarily come to a hospital.  
  
Fred and George had gone back to living in their flat above the shop, and Rowan and Carly had decided to stay with Nigel and Suzette while giving up their flat to Kyle and Patrick, who kept odd hours and wanted to be on their own. Within three weeks of Kyle and Patrick's arrival, Aidan and Catherine Winters came from America, determined to live close to their children. They bought a house not far from Nigel and Suzette's home and dubbed it 'Winterhaven'; it wasn't long before they, along with Kyle and Patrick, joined the Order.  
  
Bill and Fleur went on with planning their wedding, and work on and around the Burrow was going well, with lots of extra hands to share the work. On the night of the first snowfall of the year, Rowan accepted George's proposal of marriage in front of everyone who was helping to rebuild the Burrow that evening, and Carly admitted that she and Fred had been engaged for over two weeks by that time. She beamed as she was finally able to take the ring that she had been wearing on a chain for a fortnight, and have Fred slip it onto her ring finger as last. Molly and Catherine had both burst into happy tears at seeing their children engaged, and then both let out a shriek when they announced that they wanted to be married at the New Year.  
  
The rebuilding of the Burrow was finished three days before Christmas, with a huge sigh of relief from Charlie, who had been working himself ragged over it, doing almost nothing else over the past month. They had finally chased Molly away from the house for the final three days of painting and papering and moving things in, so that they could surprise her. There was just enough blend of new items and items that had been salvaged from the old house to give the new one an already 'lived in' feel to it, and once they had settled in, they knew it would be 'home'. Molly had shed happy tears when the boys had managed to wrap a gigantic bow around the entire house before she was allowed to her have her first look at the finished product. When Bump was let out of the shed and into the attic, where he immediately began to rattle around, everyone was satisfied that it was a job well done.  
  
The very next day, Molly and the Winters women all gathered at the new Burrow and began decorating it for Christmas. There was a whirlwind of baking and hanging garland and decorating a tree, and all of the little details that went into making Christmas special. Once the women were satisfied that everything was ready for the children to arrive from Hogwarts so that they could celebrate a family Christmas in the new house, they all went to Suzette and Nigel's home to make preparations for the double wedding that would take place just a week after the holiday. Fred and George kept out of the way as much as possible.  
  
"Merry Christmas Everyone!" George shouted out as he entered the Burrow with his arms full of gifts. He, Fred Carly and Rowan were all wearing hand-knit jumpers in jewel tones as the trooped in.  
  
Ron, Harry, Ginny and Hermione were still sitting at the breakfast table, wearing different the hand-made jumpers that they had received from Mrs. Weasley, and speaking in secretive whispers. They shivered at the rush of cold air that gusted in at the arrival of two sets of redheaded twins. They called out a greeting, and Hermione was introduced to the soon-to-be newest Weasleys. George dumped the brightly wrapped gifts that he had not had the time to send earlier under the Christmas tree. Normally, they would have been at the end of everyone's beds when they woke, but he and Fred had been busy until late into the night, and had forgotten to send them.  
  
"Is everyone here?" Fred asked, as he hung his cloak on one of the many hooks by the door.  
  
"Bill and Fleur are still missing. They were on duty for the Order last night, so they've probably had a lie in. If they don't show up soon, we'll Floo them and see what's going on," Molly said. "And Charlie said he had an errand to run, but that he'd be back in about an hour. That was about an hour ago."  
  
As if her words had conjured him, the front door opened and Charlie stepped into the house, brining a flurry of snowflakes with him. He looked around until he spotted Harry, and then gave him the thumbs up sign before removing his cloak to reveal his own new jumper. Everyone at the table grinned back at him, and then went back to their whispered discussion.  
  
"It's snowing again," he announced needlessly. "Wizarding Wireless Network says that it should stop sometime after noon."  
  
"We can go out and play Snow Quidditch over the frozen pond later," Ron said excitedly. "When Carly and Rowan's brothers get here this afternoon, if we can convince enough people to play, we should be able to have two full teams since we wouldn't be playing with a snitch."  
  
Bill and Fleur arrived, looking tired, but merry in their new jumpers, and everyone finally gathered in the large living room. Molly passed out warm gingerbread, while Fred (who had finally been allowed to quit wearing a sling) and George passed out the gifts that they had brought for everyone. Molly, who had been enjoying having people to fuss over and cook for was moved to tears by the gift that Carly gave her: a light blue hand-knit jumper with a large "M" in flowing script on the front. "For Mum," Carly told her, hugging her tightly.  
  
"Er," Harry stood up and tried to think of a way to gain everyone's attention, and was helped out by Charlie, who put two fingers to his lips and let out a short, shrill whistle that had every head turning. "I have a gift for everyone," Harry continued, feeling suddenly jittery, "It's outside?"  
  
He looked to Charlie who nodded, and then got to his feet and said, "I'll bring it in." He strode out the door, which Harry held open for him, and then came back, carefully levitating a large crate, which barely made it through the doorway. Everyone shifted out of the way as he set it down in the center of the room, then he stepped aside and asked, "Harry? Who do you think should do the honors?"  
  
"Mum and Dad," Harry said, pleased with how easily those words flowed from his lips. He had thought it would be hard, or make him feel guilty to call them that, but it didn't; it felt good.  
  
Arthur and Molly stood up with curious expressions on their faces, and raised their wands to remove the crate panels. As they hovered away, Molly whispered, "Oh."  
  
Arthur's eyes filled as he took in the sight of the beautifully made clock standing in front of him. It stood considerably higher, and a bit wider than the original version, but the face was the same. The cabinet was of highly polished mahogany and glass, with hand carved finials at its crown. The pendulum inside was gold, with a highly stylized "W" filigreed into it, and the names of all of the family members etched deeply around the edge, including Percy's, and four new ones: Harry, Fleur, Rowan and Carly. The same names (except for Percy's) graced the golden hands of the clock face, each as individual as the person for whom it kept track.  
  
Everyone was silent as they stared at the new clock. Harry was relieved that it had arrived on time, and turned out so well. Arthur had removed his glasses, and was wiping at damp eyes with a handkerchief, and Molly simply stood, tracing her fingers along the glossy wood, at a loss for words. Ginny was the first to move, and she walked over to Harry and put her arms around him in a gentle hug, and was quickly joined by Molly. When they broke apart, everyone argued for a few moments about where the clock should be placed, and then they all sat and admired it for a few minutes longer before Carly said, "Well this has been a week full of surprises!"  
  
"Oh the surprises aren't done yet," George grinned.  
  
"What have you done?" Rowan asked suspiciously. "You were out awfully late last night."  
  
"You'll see," he said with an even bigger grin. "Should we show them, Fred?"  
  
"Now's as good a time as any," Fred agreed, getting to his feet. "Everyone is invited to come along, but Carly and Rowan will have to be blindfolded. It's about a five minute walk from here, so everyone will want their cloaks."  
  
Nearly everyone in the room was curious as to what surprise was in store for the Winters girls, and so everyone donned their cloaks and gloves and went out onto the wide porch. They waited while blindfolds were produced and secured, and the followed as Fred and George led Carly and Rowan across the snow covered front garden, and out onto a track that lead to a path in the nearby woods. There was less snow under the cover of the trees, but Charlie obligingly used a heating charm to melt a path for them all. When they came at last to the clearing where the small pond was, that Ron had suggested playing Snow Quidditch over, everyone fanned out and Hermione and Ginny both let out squeals of delight. Molly gasped, and Arthur simply chuckled. Everyone was grinning as George and Fred said in unison, "One, two, and three!" and quickly whipped away the blindfolds. On the far shore of the little pond, stood two houses, obviously newly built, each one different, yet similar in design, and each bearing a sign above the steps of the porch. The house with white paint and blue trim bore a sign that read, 'Mr. & Mrs. George Weasley' and the soft yellow house with dark green trim had a sign that read, 'Mr. & Mrs. Fred Weasley'.  
  
Rowan broke the sudden silence by taking in the sight before her and letting out a scream of excitement that startled everyone, before launching herself at George, causing them both to fall into the snow laughing. She was kissing every inch of his face she could reach, and he wasn't putting up the least bit of defense against it. "So you like it?" he asked with a broad smile.  
  
"It's perfect."  
  
"You haven't even seen the inside," he pointed out, helping her to her feet.  
  
"It's perfect," she insisted, and kissed him again firmly on the lips.  
  
Carly was still looking stunned, seemingly unaware of her sister's reaction a few feet away. Her mouth was hanging open slightly, and her eyes seemed dazed as Fred watched her. He was starting to become concerned at her lack of any other reaction.  
  
"Carly?" he asked uncertainly. He had been so sure that she would be pleased!  
  
"Honey?"  
  
"You," she began with a quavering voice, then focused her rapidly filling eyes on him. "You did this? For me?"  
  
"No," Fred said quietly, resting his forehead against hers as their mingled breath left plumes of steam floating in the air. "I did it for us."  
  
A sudden sniffle had them both looking over, to see Hermione's eyes overflowing as well. "What?" she asked. "I'm not the only one!" And indeed she wasn't; Molly had her head nestled against her husband, and had tears flowing freely from her eyes, as did Fleur, and Ginny.  
  
"I can't believe you pulled this off!" Rowan exclaimed. "On top of rebuilding the Burrow, and duties for the Order, and running the shop – where did you find the time?"  
  
"Well Charlie helped out a lot. We'd have never gotten this far without him." Fred explained. "But the insides aren't quiet done. They still need paint and paper."  
  
"And furniture," George added.  
  
"We can do that together," Rowan assured him happily.  
  
Carly nodded enthusiastically. "We'll make it a home together," she told Fred, and kissed him softly. "Thank you so much!"  
  
"Well!" Molly said brightly to the group. "What do you say we let these four explore their new homes for a bit, and the rest of us can head back to the Burrow to start dinner? We can all come back later to see it again when Rowan and Carly's family arrives."  
  
It was a small blessing for Charlie that the twins weren't there to witness it, when the rest of the Weasley family returned to the Burrow to find him kissing Tonks with much more enthusiasm that the mistletoe hanging above them warranted. Carly and Rowan, their eyes shining with happiness, returned from their new homes, pink cheeked and bubbling with excitement. The rest of the Winters family arrived a couple of hours later, and the trip to the little houses by the pond was made again before everyone gathered for Christmas dinner.  
  
That night, Molly and Arthur Weasley sighed with contentment as they sat in front of the fire in their 'new' home. Ginny and Hermione were asleep in one of the rooms, Ron and Harry in another, and things were quiet at last. It had been a day that had run the gamut of emotions from 'A' to 'Z' and for all of them, and now that it was drawing to a close, all they needed was the comfort of each other's arms and the quiet of the night. Arthur forced any stray thoughts about the work that was piled up on his desk as the Ministry, and Molly pushed away thoughts of the wedding that would be taking place in only five days, and they simply sat together and watched the fire die down in the grate. There would be enough time for everyday worries in the morning. 


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter Thirty-seven**

Fred woke up with a start the morning of December thirty-first and sat straight up in bed fast enough to make his head swim. He had the vague feeling one gets from waking up quickly from a dream, and being disoriented for a moment as it fades from the mind to be replaced by reality. 'Today is my wedding day,' was the first thought that filtered through the fog of his brain. His head was a little fuzzy from all of the drinks he'd had last night, being toasted by is his brothers and friends, but he'd luckily come back to his flat to find that Carly had kindly left a potion for both him and George to take before going to bed, to lessen the effects of a hangover. On his way to the bathroom, he looked across the hall to find George still sleeping; sprawled over his bed, still in the robes he'd worn the night before.  
  
After a long and steamy shower, Fred made his way to the small kitchen to find another potion and a note from Carly that read simply:  
  
'_Fred, Just in case the potion from last night didn't quite do the job. I love you! See you this afternoon! Carly  
  
PS – Your mother is furious that you let Ron and Harry try Fire Whiskey.'  
  
_Bless her! He poured himself a tumbler full of the potion, and drank it down before starting the tea. As it steeped, he filled another tumbler and took it into his brother's room and woke him.  
  
"Get up, you lout!" Fred called, kicking the mattress that George was spread out on.  
  
George opened his eyes just enough to look at the clock, and then made a rude hand gesture before burying his head under his pillow and trying to ignore the rest of the world.  
  
"Do you want to be late for your own wedding?" Fred asked. "Carly left some potion for us; I put it on your bed side table."  
  
"That woman is a saint," came George's muffled voice from under his pillow.  
  
"As long as you don't piss her off," Fred agreed. "Which is why I'm getting our clothes and things together so that they're ready to take to Suzette and Nigel's."  
  
George pulled his head out and flipped his blankets aside before stretching. "I guess if I don't get going soon, Mum'll send out the hounds to hunt out down."  
  
"Too late," Ginny said as she walked into the room. "She sent me and the boys over to make sure you were up before I go over to Winterhaven to get ready with the other ladies."  
  
"And where are 'the boys'?" Fred asked.  
  
"Downstairs raiding the shop," she grinned.  
  
"Hey!" George said, sitting up and groaning as his head spun. "How did you get in here past the security charms?"  
  
"Please," Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "What security charms? You two were so pissed last night; you couldn't have found your own heads. The charms weren't put back in place after Charlie made sure he poured you into bed, so he just locked the doors. It was easy enough."  
  
George picked up the tumbler from the table beside him and gulped it down, then got to his feet. "Well you've done your job. We're up and getting ready, so you can just go and get yourself ready now."  
  
"Sorry, but I have orders to make sure you're up, and then Ron and Harry are supposed to stay with you until you get to Nigel and Suzette's; Mum's leaving nothing to chance."  
  
"Doesn't trust us much, does she?" Fred said with a smile. "Have Ron and Harry walk you to back to the Leaky Cauldron, and I'll make sure George hits the shower."  
  
"Deal," she said. She turned to go, and then stopped and said, "I'm proud of you both. Don't screw it up."  
  
George threw his pillow at her, and she left chuckling.  
  
An hour later, the twins saw to it that Harry and Ron made it through the Floo at the Leaky Cauldron, and then Apparated themselves, carrying their wedding wear in hanging bags slung over their shoulders. What they saw when they arrived stunned them both, and they stood staring at the huge white tent erected on the lawn beside the house. Suzette was on hand, directing several witches and wizards on where to place chairs and flowers. They walked over and peeked inside the tent to see that it was decorated beautifully with rows of chairs with velvet padding and festoons of fresh flowers and ribbons. There were even chandeliers dripping with crystal and loaded with dozens of candles hanging overhead, just waiting to be lit. Warming charms had obviously been cast, because, though snow was beginning to fall lazily from the steel gray sky overhead, the inside of the tent was comfortably warm. There was carpeting covering the floor, and a long velvet runner down the center isle that led up to an altar of sorts, covered in flowers.  
  
"Wow!" George whispered.  
  
"They did all of this in under a month?" Fred whispered in reply.  
  
"They most certainly did!" Nigel's voice boomed from behind them, making them jump. The older man laughed heartily, as if he hadn't spent half the night drinking fire whiskey with his brother, and a roomful of men half his age. "And you should see the inside of the house, where the reception his being set up! Best to stay out the way, lads. Come on into the house and let Suzette do what she does best."  
  
He herded Fred and George away from the tent, and into the entryway of the house where Arthur was standing with a camera, ready to snap their picture as they arrived.  
  
"I promised Molly I'd make sure I got lots of photos of the two of you getting ready." He said apologetically as they blinked and rubbed at their eyes after the flash. "I also promised that I'd make sure that you were prepared for the ceremony. Why don't we go and get the two of you ready so that we can run through the particulars? The guests should begin to arrive in just under an hour, and then there's going to be a half an hour after that until the actual ceremony."  
  
Fred and George followed their father down the corridor to one of the bigger guest bedrooms and took all of their wedding finery from the hanging bags. Fred mentally groaned at the sight of the clothes he was going to be wearing, and thanked heaven that he would only have to wear them once. Why couldn't he just wear a nice set of dress robes, instead of all this traditional stuff? 'Because it's what Carly wanted,' the voice in his head answered. 'And you'd walk down the isle naked if she asked you to.' So now he was looking at a white silk shirt with full sleeves and a high collar, with a double-breasted, gray and silver brocade vest to go over that. Glancing over at what Rowan had picked out for George, he saw that the shirt was very similar to his own, but that his brother was to be wearing a royal blue doublet over his shirt instead of a vest.  
  
"Bloody hell," George muttered as he fastened the snug fitting breeches and blinked again as he was blinded by a camera flash.  
  
Fred abandoned the shirt and vest for now, and donned his own similar pants. As he sat to pull on his knee-high boots, there was a knock at the door, and Toolah bustled in carrying a tray of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice.  
  
"Ms. Suzette says you boys is to eat something," she said sternly. "You need to keep up your strength today."  
  
She left the tray and bustled out again, in her element with all of the preparations going on around her. Each of the boys paused in their dressing, and took a sandwich; Arthur took one as well and sat down on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Well I suppose now is as good a time as any for a father to sons talk before the main event," he said seriously. "I really didn't think I'd be having this talk with the two of you first out of all of my sons, but I'm not sorry."  
  
"Dad," George said, a hint of desperation in his voice. His nerves had been steadily growing since they'd arrived, and he didn't know if he could take a 'talk' from his father without completely losing his outward calm. "You don't have to..."  
  
"Don't worry George," Arthur chuckled at the look on his son's face. "It's not going to be that kind of talk. I think we covered that subject sufficiently when the two of you were fourteen, and embarrass us all enough to last us for the rest of our lives."  
  
"Thank Merlin!" George said, visibly relieved.  
  
"No, I just want to make sure that the two of you know exactly what you're getting into today," he told them with a very sober tone. "This marriage will be a magically binding contract between you and your wives that would be extremely hard to negate once the ceremony is completed. I have to know that you believe with all of your hearts that you are going into this with your eyes wide open. Marriage isn't always easy. In fact, it's often very, very hard, and it's a lot of work and compromise."  
  
"I'm sure, Dad," Fred said with quiet confidence. "I know exactly what I'm getting into, and I know it's exactly what I want. Carly is the other half of me, and she always will be."  
  
"I feel the same way for Rowan," George said with a calm voice, as he looked his father in the eye. "Maybe it won't be easy, but it'll be worth it. Fred and I had the best examples in the world in you and Mum. We've watched you through all of these years and have seen the sacrifices and hardships that could have broken you apart, but it didn't; it made you stronger. That's what I want to have with Rowan."  
  
Arthur swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat, and smiled. "That's all I need to hear."  
  
They finished their little meal while going over the sequence of events for the ceremony one more time, even though they had been made to walk through it a dozen times the previous day. As they were finishing dressing, Harry poked his head in, and grinned at the sight of Fred and George dressed, as he had never seen them before. He had never seen a Wizarding wedding (or any wedding for that matter) before, and was very interested in everything that was going on. It seemed to be one big whirlwind to him, but the women from both families seemed to have everything in hand.  
  
"The guests are being seated," he said, delivering Molly's message. "Fred and George need to be in place in ten minutes."  
  
"Are the girls here?" George asked.  
  
"Yes," Harry answered. "They're in the master suite, and I was told to tell you that you can't see them until the ceremony. I'm supposed to go and help usher people to their seats."  
  
They waved as he left, and both boys got suddenly quiet. Arthur left the two of them alone together, and said he would be back when it was time for them to take their places in front of the altar they had seen earlier.  
  
"Are you ready for this?" Fred asked his twin.  
  
George nodded. "You?"  
  
Fred nodded as well. They just stood looking at each other for a moment, and then stepped forward and embraced, thumping each other on the back. As they stepped apart, Fred straightened George's formal outer robes. They were a deep and dark blue silk, with beaded trim, and didn't look nearly as ridiculous on him as he had feared they would when he had first seen them.  
  
"You look good," Fred told him. "Grown up."  
  
"So do you," George said, brushing some dust from Fred's charcoal gray robes.  
  
"Let's go get married." Fred grinned, and they left the room together.  
  
Every seat seemed to be taken. There were so many faces looking up at them, the George was beginning to feel slightly dizzy. This was the biggest, most important thing he had ever done; he had never wanted anything more in his whole life than he wanted to see Rowan standing beside him at that moment, taking her vows with him. Fred was surreptitiously wiping his damp hands on his robes as Amelia Bones tried to calms his nerves with idle talk. She had been thrilled to ask to officiate the wedding, after so many of the unpleasant duties she'd had to perform in her new position as Minister for Magic. Instead of choosing a Best Man and Maid of Honor from all of the many candidates, it had been decided that it would be most diplomatic to keep things simple, and have the parents of the brides and grooms stand as witnesses. All of the Weasley and Winters brothers, and Harry, had been delegated to the role of Ushers; everyone else was a guest.  
  
Looking out around the crowed room, there were a sea of familiar faces looking back at them, some wearing expressions of encouragement, and some of sentimentality. Most of the members of the Order were present, scattered throughout the crowd, as well as many school friends and many guests and relatives from both France and America. Lee sat at the front of the rows with Katie Bell as his escort, and Professor Dumbledore smiled merrily at him from his place of honor beside Harry, with the rest of the Weasley family. Eunice smiled and waved at them from her seat just behind Dumbledore. Fred and George had no idea they even knew half this many people. 'The ratio of guests with red hair seems to outnumber those without by about two to one,' George thought silently as he surveyed them.  
  
At last they saw the signal from the back, and the musicians that were stationed off in a corner began to play a soft and traditional Celtic tune. The room quieted, and those few who had been standing, quickly took their seats. Fred and George each breathed deeply and stood straighter, facing the direction from which their brides would come. Molly and Arthur stood off to one side, to be witnesses for the grooms, and Catherine Winters hurried down the side isle to take her place to the other side to stand as witness for the brides.  
  
The tone of the music changed, everyone stood, and with a graceful movement, Carly and Rowan appeared at the far end of the isle, each on one of their father's arms. Fred's eyes took in the whole picture of the three figures slowly approaching him, then his focus narrowed on Carly. He didn't really take in the white and silver of her robes, or the clutch of white roses she carried, or the way the curls in her hair shone in the candlelight; he would notice all of that later and think that that he had never seen anything so lovely. His eyes fastened onto hers, which were shining with happy tears and his heart filled with emotion; he swallowed hard and smiled widely, his eyes never leaving hers. George stood transfixed by the site of Rowan in her ice blue silks and satins as she approached; carrying white roses and looking like an angel. There was happiness and love and just a hint of mischief in her eyes; any lingering trace of doubt that she would actually go through with it faded from his mind as she stopped before him.  
  
"Who gives these women to be joined with these men in marriage?" Madam Bones asked with a clear and carrying voice.  
  
"Her mother and I do," Aidan Winters answered with a voice thick with emotion. He kissed each of his girls in turn, and then handed them over to their soon-to-be husbands. With a nod to both Fred and George that spoke volumes, he turned to take his place beside his wife.  
  
Fred held Carly's hand in his and faced Madam Bones. George took Rowan's hand and kissed it as they, too, faced the altar.  
  
"What a beautiful and happy day this is!" Madam Bones began. "Family and friends are gathered her together to join in the celebration of the marriage between Fred Weasley to Carly Winters and of George Weasley to Rowan Winters. To these young people, this day signifies the birth of a new spirit, a spirit which is a part of each of us, yet not of any one of us alone...."  
  
Carly listened to the words being spoken by Madam Bones, but found that all she could really concentrate on was Fred's presence beside her and the slight trembling of her own hand in his. At one point his eyes shifted to hers, and he smiled and gave her hand a small squeeze. She worked to concentrate on the fact that in a few moments they would say their vows and perform the spell that would join them together forever. Why was it taking so long?  
  
Rowan stood on one foot, willing herself not to make a fool of herself, but for some odd reason, her other leg was shaking so badly, she was afraid to put any weight at all on it for fear of falling over! Madam Bones was nearing the actual vows now, and she said a silent prayer to the Powers That Be that she wouldn't screw it up. George was standing beside her, apparently as calm and collected as could be, while she was afraid she would begin to hyperventilate if this lasted much longer. He looked at her and smiled when Madam Bones recited their names, and she calmed enough to trust her legs to support her. How did he do that? 'You'll have the next hundred years or so to find out,' she told herself, and mentally prepared for her part in the ceremony.  
  
"Fred Arthur Weasley and Carlotta Marie Winters, do you both intend to take each other in marriage?"  
  
"We do," they answered in unison.  
  
Molly was dabbing at her eyes, and looked across the proceedings to see Catherine doing the same. They caught each other's eyes and smiled.  
  
"Present your joined hands," Madam Bones told Fred and Carly. When they held their hands forward, fingers threaded together, Madam Bones produced her wand, and with a swish of its tip, a band of white silk wrapped itself loosely, intertwining about their wrists as if in a figure eight. "Recite your vows."  
  
Fred and Carly looked into each other's eyes and recited together with an unwavering voice:  
_"We swear by peace and love to stand,  
Heart to heart and hand to hand.  
Mark, all gathered, and hear us now,  
Confirming this our Sacred Vow."  
_  
Madam Bones nodded with a smile, and removed the band of silk. "The rings?"  
  
Fred reached into his pocket and produced two rings, each engraved with a Celtic knot pattern around it. He placed them on the flat pillow that Madam Bones held out, and she said, "Your wands."  
  
They let go of each other's hands and withdrew their wands. Fred was the first to complete his part, and so he touched the ring that he was to give to Carly, and uttered the spell,  
  
"Me ad te evincio." _I bind myself to you_. A small pearl of light appeared at the tip of his wand, and seemed to be absorbed by the ring as he touched it, making it glow briefly. He put his wand aside for a moment, and took Carly's hand and placed the ring on her finger.  
  
Carly followed the same procedure for Fred's ring and placed it on his finger. Madam Bones then said, "Touch wands."  
  
Fred held his wand toward Carly, and she touched the tip of her wand to the tip of his and together they recited again, "Me ad te evincio." A white light seemed to envelop the couple for a moment, and then faded away. They were married.  
  
Madam Bones smiled widely at the couple and then moved to stand before George and Rowan. "George Edward Weasley and Rowan Janine Winters, do you both intend to take each other in marriage?"  
  
"We Do," they answered in one voice.  
  
It was many hours later when the last guest departed. Tears had been shed, laughter shared and toasts made. It had been a long and tiring day, and at last only the Winters and Weasley families, Harry and Hermione were left. Hermione was still holding the bouquet that she had caught earlier in the evening, and was holding hands with Ron. The brides and grooms were getting ready to depart; they weren't going to take a honeymoon just yet, but they were looking forward to spending their first night in their new homes. Before the newlyweds took their leave of their family, Nigel stopped them and said with humor in his eyes, "As Suzette's and my gift to both couples, you'll find that you actually have some furniture in your houses. You won't have to sleep on the floor after all."  
  
Everyone chuckled, and Fred suggested, "Let's go get started on the rest of our lives."  
  
And that's exactly what they did.  
  
**Epilogue **_(Three years later):_  
  
The end of the war with Voldemort had taken its toll on the Wizarding world. Many families had suffered and lives had been lost, but luckily it had ended two years ago, much more quickly than anyone could have predicted at the beginning. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was about to commence its fall term, and all of the professors agreed that it looked to be a quiet, if dull, year. The war was over, and Harry Potter had left the school shortly after his victory over Voldemort; the world would never be the same for any of them. Since Ginny's graduation the previous year, there were no Weasley family members coming to the school for the first time in many, many years.  
  
Minerva McGonagall made her way to the headmaster's office carrying a very important book. Not many even knew of its existence, and so she took her charge in handling it very seriously. She kept it for a few days only each year, and then returned it to the headmaster's office where it resided the rest of the year. It was a highly magical book, which had pages that magically recorded the births of magical children all over Britain. An equally magic quill would come to life when a magical child was born, and record the date, the name of the child, and the child's parent's names. At the end of each month, the page of the book on which the births for that month were recorded, would turn to a clean page, and magically sealed itself for ten and a half years, until it was time for those children to receive letters to invite them to begin their magical education at Hogwarts.  
  
Minerva had just replaced the book on the pedestal on which it normally resided and turned to smile at Dumbledore, who was sitting at his desk, and Severus Snape, who was having a cup of tea in one of the chairs opposite. "I've just finished sending out acceptance letters, Albus," she told him serenely as Snape poured her a cup and handed it to her. "Forty-seven this year! The dormitories will be a bit cramped this year, even if the new students are distributed evenly through all of the houses."  
  
Severus groaned quietly. He didn't particularly enjoy first year students, though he had mellowed out some in the past two years. Minerva suspected it had something to do with the fact that Harry Potter was not gone from the school.  
  
As they sat and enjoyed their tea, the quill beside the book Minerva had just replaced sprang to life. It hovered, poised over the freshest page, and then began to write. Dumbledore's smile widened, and his eyes twinkled as they always did when the quill set to work. A busy quill meant a busy school, just the way he preferred it to be. It took them a moment to realize that the quill was taking longer than it usually did to complete it's entry, and so Severus and Minerva stood, out of curiosity, and looked down at the page that was rapidly filling with names. They read: Date: August 1, 2001 Parents: George and Rowan Weasley Child:

Brian Aidan Weasley  
Quinn James Weasley  
Marie Catherine Weasley  
  
Parents: Frederick and Carlotta Weasley Child:

Jared Frederick Weasley  
Robert Michael Weasley  
Connor Patrick Weasley  
  
Severus just barely had time to catch Minerva as she fainted.  
  
**_THE END (Finally)_**


End file.
